The Twelfth Level
by Stormkpr
Summary: The death wave is rapidly approaching. Clarke and Bellamy make a startling discovery: Cadogan's cult has survived underground and is willing to shelter Skaikru from the impending disaster. But at what price? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The Twelfth Level**

**Summary**: The death wave is rapidly approaching. Clarke, Bellamy, and Jaha make a startling discovery: Cadogan's cult has survived underground and is willing to shelter Skaikru from the impending disaster. But at what price?

**Notes: **Fic is mostly canon-compliant until 4x3 (The Fourth Horseman), and then canon-divergent. I did move up the timeline so that Praimfaya is approaching even faster than it was in 4x3.

Main characters and ships will be **Bellarke** and **Mackson**. (Other canon ships make appearances in the background –Kabby, Memori, Marper). Raven will also make several important appearances.

**Rating: **Rating will start out teen and up, but there will be love scenes (of the hetero variety) eventually. I will warn before the chapter(s) in case that's not your thing.

**Length: **Twelve chapters total. The fic is already completed, so you don't have to worry about being left hanging.

**Thank you:** Lexxaven, Penguin of Prose, and WolfHeartGirl. Three phenomenal, creative, and detailed beta-testers. Each of you has greatly enhanced this fic.

* * *

**Chapter One – The Beginning **

"What if they're still in there?"

Clarke had asked the question as she, Bellamy, and Jaha approached what they hoped would be the Second Dawn bunker.

It was their people's last real chance to survive the death wave.

Jaha's research had been compelling. Over 100 years ago, Bill Cadogan had founded a doomsday cult called the Second Dawn. The group believed that the end of the world was near, and prepared for it by building various bunkers that were to be occupied and funded by society's richest and most elite. In order to gain access to their "salvation" in the bunker, Second Dawn followers had to reach what was called "the twelfth level" by unlocking "the twelve seals", which was accomplished by making payments of over 10 million dollars to the cult. All signs indicated that one of those bunkers had indeed been built, and was potentially still intact. The fact that it was only a day's drive from Arkadia made it a viable solution that both Clarke and Bellamy were willing to check out, despite Raven's protests and their own reservations about Jaha's leadership decisions in the past.

The reality was that Praimfaya was approaching faster than ALIE had originally said it would. And although Skaikru had increased the number of work hours for those preparing the Ark for the impending death wave, it was looking less and less likely that it would be ready in time. If by some miracle it was, the limited space and provisions they had wouldn't be sufficient to accommodate everyone. When Jaha had presented the possibility of a bunker that could not only hold every member of Skaikru, but their grounder allies as well, Clarke and Bellamy knew they couldn't pass the opportunity up. Both of them were still too haunted by the loss of life at Mount Weather and the decision they'd been forced to make. Ruling out the possibility of another option, even if it did seem like a long shot, wasn't something either of them were willing or able to do.

When Clarke had asked the question about the Second Dawn members still being inside the bunker, she hadn't thought it too likely that anyone would actually still be living in there after all these years. She'd just tossed the idea out there, an unlikely thought.

But by now she should know better.

During the months she'd spent on the ground, Clarke had experienced one shocking experience after another, and tonight she faced yet another one. She, Bellamy, and Jaha had learned that a group of descendants from the original Second Dawn cult did indeed still live inside the bunker. The three of them were able to crack the code needed to enter the bunker. And there they learned that the Second Dawn's current leader John Cadogan - the great grandson of Bill Cadogan himself - had insisted on speaking with Jaha, and Jaha alone.

That left Clarke and Bellamy sitting inside the rover, awaiting Jaha's return. The night felt so quiet and dark, especially without the steady hum of insects in the background. The recent discovery made by Raven that smaller species were dying off at an alarmingly rapid pace was just another harrowing reminder to Clarke that her people's end might be fast approaching too. She felt relief at having found the bunker, but anxiety as well. The fate of her people's survival rested in the hands of a potential cult leader, and a former chancellor whose blind faith in an AI had brought untold levels of death and destruction upon them. John Cadogan and Thelonius Jaha—two men Clarke had little reason to trust. She wished she could be in on the conversation with them, and to have some measure of control or say over the decisions being made. After so many months of being in a leadership position, being forced to sit idly in the rover like this made her feel completely powerless and out of control.

At least she wasn't alone.

She glanced at Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. He'd been tapping his foot lightly and staring out the windshield with a thoughtful and somber expression on his face. It was clear that he felt the tension and burden of the moment too, and it made Clarke's heart feel both soothed yet painfully aching as well. It seemed like there was so much left to say between them, but they'd been sitting in silence for quite some time now.

"Jaha was right," Clarke began, unable to stand the silence any longer. "You do keep me centered. And I am lucky to have you." Her voice sounded almost too loud to her own ears, slightly echoing, inside the enclosed space of the rover.

Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise and he turned to face her. "How did you—"

"I overheard your conversation," Clarke admitted, giving Bellamy a small smile in return. "I mean, I was only standing 15 feet away and I'm not deaf."

Bellamy's lips quirked upwards in a smile, and they both let out a relieved laugh at Clarke's sardonic words.

"Well, then you heard what I said back to him," Bellamy replied, the movement shifting back into seriousness and a look of haunted sadness in his eyes. "Jaha's been wrong about a lot of things, but he's right about leadership. It is a 'lonely pursuit'."

Clarke felt an ache in her chest at the look in Bellamy's eyes, and she paused to let the meaning of his words sink in. She knew that they were both still haunted by the past decisions they'd been forced to make as leaders. Haunted by their mistakes and the despairing guilt that went along with them. Haunted by the time they'd spent apart for all those months and everything that had occurred. Bellamy's words rang true; leadership was a lonely pursuit. At times it felt so isolating and suffocating that Clarke felt she might crumble under the weight of it, and she knew Bellamy shared that feeling too.

Their lives might be over in a few weeks. And although Clarke hoped Jaha was doing his best to negotiate right now, they knew little of the Second Dawn and whether they'd have any desire to shelter Skaikru, let alone whether they'd even have the space and the resources. The prospect of surviving the death wave inside their bunker had every chance of falling through, and if it did, then what? Knowing that her days – and everyone else's – were probably numbered, Clarke decided to open up.

"It's less lonely because of you," Clarke admitted, turning her head to look at Bellamy. Twinges of fear nipped at her as she spoke the words out loud. Opening up like this always made her feel naked and exposed.

There was so much more for them to talk about.

Mount Weather, and how Bellamy had pulled the lever with her so she didn't have to bear it alone. The three months she'd spent away from Skaikru, wandering alone in the woods, in an unsuccessful attempt to deal with her guilt. Lexa. Not to mention the fact that Clarke understood that Bellamy had suffered as much as she had. Gina's death. Getting caught up with Pike and the massacre of the grounder army, and having to live with the resulting regret.

Maybe – just maybe – tonight was the night to say more to Bellamy. To finally open up to him and let him in. To share all the things she'd been longing to for so many months now, but had been holding back. If it failed, truly, what would the harm be? What were the odds that anyone was going to survive the death wave anyway, Second Dawn bunker or not?

Feeling emboldened by their dire circumstances, Clarke took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak, "And I wanted to say-"

She was suddenly cut off by the sound of loud, rapid footsteps stomping around outside of the rover. A second later, Jaha opened the door and Clarke felt anxiety grip her chest at the intense look on his face. "Let's go!" the former chancellor insisted. "We need to head back to Arkadia. I have much to discuss with Chancellor Kane."

"What happened?" Bellamy asked firmly, clearly suspicious of the sudden turn of events.

"What did the Second Dawn leaders say?" Clarke demanded, feeling equally suspicious. "Tell us everything!"

"In due time," Jaha said calmly. "But please, start driving. We have much to do if this is going to work."

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged worried glances, holding each other's gazes for a few tense moments before letting out dual sighs of resignation.

"He's gotten us this far hasn't he?" Bellamy shrugged, his eyebrows raising in a hopeful sort of question, even as a slight grimace spread across his face

"Fine," Clarke relented, "but we want answers." She turned to Jaha, giving him a pointed look. "And you're going to give them to us on the way. Understood?"

"Of course," Jaha stated briskly, refusing to meet her eyes. "Now please, we really must be going. There is much to be done."

During the drive back to Arkadia, Clarke and Bellamy succeeded in only getting the slightest details from Jaha despite their intense questioning of him. He informed them that approximately 300 descendants of the original cult still lived inside the bunker, under the rule of John Cadogan and a group of elders. The group did indeed still call themselves the Second Dawn, and although the media at the time had branded them as a cult, the group had never viewed themselves as one.

The two also learned that the bunker had a thriving hydrofarm and functioning air scrubbers, providing them with plenty of food and clean air. "The place looks good," Jaha had said. "Comfortable, even." He added that the Second Dawn leaders seemed to be open to sharing the bunker with Skaikru - however they wanted to speak with Chancellor Kane first.

Maddeningly, though, Jaha refused to answer any more of Clarke and Bellamy's questions. Chief among them being what would happen to Roan, Indra, and the rest of their grounder friends and allies? And more importantly, what kind of people were the Second Dawn members? Did they seem sane and rational? Or did they embody the word "cult" the way their ancestors had?

Clarke wanted to toss Jaha from the rover as he refused to answer their questions. And throughout the ride back, she felt her heart beating at such a rapid pace that she wondered if the others could hear it. She'd had a moment – a brief one – of starting to open up to Bellamy, but it had been cut short by Jaha's infuriatingly cryptic instructions and their subsequent need to take action.

Despite the darkness of the night, Clarke knew she'd glimpsed something, some spark of recognition, in Bellamy's dark brown eyes when she'd started to open up to him. She longed to go back to that moment—to see more and feel more with him—even as the world seemingly fell apart around them.

As they approached Arkadia, Bellamy silently reached a hand out to her, and Clarke was quick to reach back and hold it with her own. His hand felt warm and strong, slightly calloused from months on the ground, but Clarke found that she liked the feeling. It was like a reminder of all the storms they'd weathered together, and gave her a hopeful sort of feeling that they'd weather this one together too. She turned to find Bellamy's eyes staring at her. Her breath hitched at the intensity and raw emotion in his gaze. It was filled with so much longing and compassion that she was forced to look away.

No, that couldn't be right. Clarke knew she was letting her emotions get away from her and tried to rein them in. `It's just a gesture of support,' she told herself. `A nice gesture. He's just saying that he's facing these uncertain times with me and that we'll figure it out together. That's all.' But Bellamy's touch made her heart race, almost making her forget her concerns for Skaikru and what might be in store for them.

* * *

Jackson didn't make eavesdropping a habit.

As always, he absorbed himself in his work, sacrificing the free time necessary for a social life and friends. But his closest colleague, and indeed the person he knew best in this world, was Abby Griffin. And given Abby's status as not only a former chancellor herself, but as partner to the current chancellor Kane, mother to Clarke Griffin, and friend to former chancellor Jaha – well, Abby knew absolutely everything that was happening in Arkadia.

Without trying, Jackson just naturally soaked up information through her.

He knew that ever since Jaha, Clarke, and Bellamy had returned five days earlier, a flurry of activity had followed. Kane and Jaha had made several trips to the Second Dawn bunker, and had held many hushed, intense conversations with each other and with Abby. Jackson knew that the rising panic among Arkadians over their impending doom made these conversations between the leaders seem desperate at times.

And yet despite the approach of the death wave, most aspects of life in Arkadia proceeded as normal. People argued over petty concerns, they debated philosophical questions, they sang, they drank, they hooked up. And they broke up too.

This had Jackson reflecting on his own personal life and relationships, or lack thereof.

Nathan Miller had been the one person outside of med bay who'd been on Jackson's radar for a long time. He'd first noticed the former delinquent when they'd liberated Mount Weather. Jackson had frantically treated the many wounded, and Nathan Miller had stood out for his calm demeanor amidst the chaos. Jackson had noticed Miller's sarcastic sense of humor, and the loving exchanges he'd had with his father. Both Millers had spent some time in med bay, recovering from wounds they'd gotten during the final battle at Mount Weather.

Jackson had tended to them both throughout their stay, and although he was not one to interject himself into social situations while on the job, he enjoyed observing and learning about them both - but especially Nathan.

Nathan Miller had stood out for his loyalty as well.

As Jackson had learned from overhearing Miller's discussions with his dad, the former delinquent had a boyfriend named Bryan, whose whereabouts had been unknown at the time. It had seemed as though Bryan had likely perished with the majority of the Ark's former inhabitants, but Miller had vowed to remain steadfast and loyal, believing that Bryan could still be alive. Miller's level of commitment was almost shocking to Jackson, especially given the amount of casual hookups that often occurred between Arkadians. It was something Jackson had taken note of, and his interest had continued to be piqued during the events that had followed Bryan's return: Miller had seemed to give his best attempt at making the relationship work, but then the young couple had decided to split.

Now Miller was single.

Jackson sighed - at times like this, he wished he had a confidant. Someone he could talk to about his feelings and his fears. There were some things he just didn't feel comfortable sharing with Abby, not that Abby had any time for playing the role of personal mentor anyway. She was too busy overseeing med bay and assisting Kane and Jaha with their decision-making.

Although he didn't know him very well, Jackson liked Miller and was interested in getting to know him better, but he had no idea if he should approach him or not. When he had a few spare moments, he tried to use his strong analytical mind to assess the situation. He made a list of pros and cons as to whether or not he should express his interest. He tried to guess at Miller's potential reaction given his mental database of the man's behavior.

Jackson landed on a no. Miller had never displayed any interest in him, and Jackson didn't want to be someone's rebound hookup anyway. He sighed and decided to focus his energy where it belonged: on issues of medicine, not of the human heart.

* * *

Clarke still couldn't believe that this place would be her home for the next five years. Five years, living underground inside of a bunker – and under the rules of the Second Dawn.

Seeing Luna's people die had made the decision easy for Skaikru. If the black rain hadn't been terrifying enough, seeing an entire clan decimated from eating irradiated fish had made it clear to them: if they wanted to survive the death wave, they had to accept John Cadogan's offer.

And the offer appeared simple. Skaikru – and Skaikru alone – would be allowed to shelter in the Second Dawn bunker for five years, until the planet was habitable again. In exchange for shelter and food, Skaikru would, of course, join the Second Dawn followers in routine chores like cooking, cleaning, and maintenance. As a gesture of good faith, Kane and Jaha offered the services of Skaikru's engineers and doctors as well, knowing they had a lot to offer in their fields.

The Second Dawn had one more requirement though. They wanted Skaikru to attend daily religious services with them. "And be open," Cadogan had stipulated, "to what our religion teaches. It goes without saying that we expect all of you to respect our practices and beliefs."

The man had not been overly forceful or insistent, but he had been stern and resolute.

When Clarke had first met Cadogan, she'd guessed that he wasn't used to others questioning him, or even used to questioning the current laws and rules for himself. This was simply his people's way of life—the only existence they'd ever known or lived—and he'd enforced the laws and rules the Second Dawn had laid out because it was what he'd been tasked to do. He wasn't particularly striking in appearance either. In fact, Clarke thought he was rather unimpressive and dull. He was in his late forties and of average height and build. His eyes were a lackluster gray, blending in with his salt and pepper hair and neatly trimmed beard, making his pale skin look even more washed out and almost sickly. If Clarke hadn't seen some of the other Second Dawn members looking similarly pale due to their lack of exposure to sunlight, she would have thought he had reason for concern.

Cadogan had required Kane, as Skaikru chancellor, to sign a document that laid out the specifics of the deal. Kane, of course, had consulted with Abby and Jaha during every step of the process, knowing that such a big decision should not be made by a single leader alone. He had also made sure to listen to the concerns of their people, wanting them to feel like they had a voice and say in the matter. Despite the misgivings of many Skaikru about joining with a group that had at one point been considered a cult, the consensus was clear: the death wave would hit Arkadia in a few days, and the Second Dawn bunker was their only option for survival. Kane signed the agreement, with the stipulation that any member of Skaikru who didn't like it could stay behind in Arkadia.

No one did.

It meant leaving Roan and Indra outside, both literally and figuratively. The Second Dawn refused to accommodate grounders. The decision to keep Roan, Indra, and all the others unaware – and with no means to survive Praimfaya – had been heartbreaking. Clarke, Octavia, and others had raged against it. Octavia had had to be restrained, and Clarke and Bellamy had tried desperately to find a solution to save them but there wasn't one. The Second Dawn wouldn't budge – and they didn't have enough space for thousands of grounders anyway. As leaders, Roan and Indra would have to remain unaware of Skaikru's move lest an army of grounders swarm the area. The last thing Skaikru wanted was a war over the bunker that would leave more people dead than saved from the death wave.

Emori and Niylah's status, however, as two grounders who were not leaders saved them. With Kane and Jaha's reluctant blessing – given only because Emori and Niylah had no way of sharing this information with other grounders – the two were "snuck in", posing as Skaikru. Emori's facial markings were covered by makeup, and her hand covered by clothing and a glove.

The fact that they were able to save at least a few grounders, gave Clarke and Bellamy some solace for the others they had to leave behind.

Clarke's room in the bunker was not unlike her room on the Ark. She, like everyone else in the Second Dawn bunker, would have one roommate with whom she would share a sleeping space. The room contained two beds, a desk, a chair, and some shelves. Each room provided a few touches to help it edge towards coziness. A plant or two was available to anyone who promised to care for it. Artwork was provided too, as the people of Second Dawn had done much painting and weaving over the past century. A tapestry with abstract images in shades of brown and red was already hanging on the wall.

Skaikru's rooms were located on three, long wings of the bunker. The Second Dawn members' rooms were located on opposite wings. Each wing had large, communal bathrooms.

Clarke and Raven had decided to be roommates. Which meant that the desk intended for them to share was completely covered in blueprints, tools, and various machine parts that Raven had somehow already managed to amass over the short period of time they'd been here. Clarke sighed at the mess that she was sure was organized chaos to someone with genius-level intelligence like Raven. Having such an organized mind clearly came at the expense of having an organized space. The artist in Clarke wanted to protest over the disturbance of the room's aesthetic, but she knew it was a silly thing to be annoyed about when the world was ending outside.

Clarke had briefly considered asking Niylah to room with her instead but ultimately decided against it. She liked Niylah, and Niylah had provided a measure of comfort to her over the past few months. But Clarke sensed it was time for them to shift from "friends with benefits" to "just friends". Niylah, too, had never seemed to want or ask for anything more.

Hours after moving in, Clarke sat on her bed, rubbing the back of her neck and trying to relieve some of the tension that had been a near constant since landing on the ground. She hadn't slept much the past few days and the exhaustion was finally catching up to her.

With Raven in engineering, Clarke knew there were a hundred things she could be doing. Should she take another look at med bay? (No, she'd seen it already and her mother and Jackson had it covered). Try to get more information out of Jaha or Kane? (Good luck with that). Try to strike up a conversation with a Second Dawn member? (That was about as appetizing as the thought of eating bugs).

A knock sounded on her door, and a second later, Bellamy appeared.

Upon seeing Bellamy's face, Clarke felt like she wanted to either cry or run up to him and put her arms around him. The last few weeks had been so insane. The guilt over the fates of Roan, Indra, and the other grounders constantly ate at her. Seeing Bellamy felt like a soothing balm over bruised skin. How had he gone from being her antagonist to her rock in just a few short months?

"How are you holding up?" he asked somberly, taking a few steps inside the room and closing the door behind him.

"How are you?" Clarke asked instead of answering, the feeling of being too exposed creeping up. Bellamy could read her like an open book, something she both feared and longed for. "I know things with Octavia are –"

Bellamy silenced that line of discussion with a shake of his head. Clarke gave him a gentle nod and a small smile of reassurance, wanting him to know she understood.

"Would you like to sit down?" Clarke asked, gesturing to the space beside her on the bed, and Bellamy nodded, crossing the room and sitting down next to her. The soft hum of generators that was a near constant sound inside the bunker could be heard in the background, but other than that, the room was quiet.

The two of them remained in a comfortable silence for several moments until Bellamy spoke again.

"You didn't answer my question," he said, his voice gentle but slightly ragged. "How are you holding up? The real answer, not the one you give everyone else."

It was easy, Clarke thought, sitting next to Bellamy like this. She could look straight ahead and not meet his eyes. Sometimes there was such an intensity in them, an intensity that made her feel so many different things, and she still had to sort through what it all meant. "Terrible," she answered, shaking herself from her confusing feelings and thoughts. "Roan was my friend. It feels like Mount Weather all over again, only with more dead people and nothing I can do about it."

"We had no choice," Bellamy said quiet but stern, continuing to look straight ahead. "If we told Roan or Indra or any of the others, they would have sent armies here. It would have been a massacre and it probably would have ended with no one getting the bunker." He paused. "Or Azgeda - and Azgeda alone - getting it."

"I know." Clarke sighed in quiet resignation. "Doesn't make it any easier to deal with the fact that we're sitting in here surviving, while our friends are out there dying. If the black rain hasn't gotten them already, then the death wave will when it gets here in a day or two."

"Yeah." Bellamy responded, his voice gruff, and Clarke could tell he was taking this loss just as hard as she was.

Clarke made note of the warmth she felt from Bellamy's body. She appreciated it. She thought back to the way he'd held her hand in the rover. And she thought back to all those months ago in Mount Weather, and the way he'd placed his hand over hers as they'd pulled the lever together. He provided her with a level of comfort and support that was unparalleled and allowed her to feel a semblance of peace that shouldn't even exist amidst the chaos of their lives. He was like a place of calm in the eye of the storm, a magnet drawing her to him - and Clarke needed him to keep doing what he'd been doing and continue to stay close.

"We all have to go to religious services too, as soon as we get settled in," Bellamy spoke up again, after several moments of silence. "I wonder what that will be like. Probably will feel strange."

"We need to learn more about these people," Clarke said, her voice taking on a bit of urgency as she turned to face him. "We still don't know what the leaders of the Second Dawn really want from us. And Kane and Jaha have deliberately been keeping things from us. I'm scared to think of what else they're hiding. Also…did you notice the way the Second Dawn women dress?"

Bellamy nodded. The male members of the Second Dawn wore clothing that mostly resembled Skaikru's – dark trousers, shirts, and sweaters. Nothing remarkable. The women, however, all wore dresses. They were plain, shapeless shifts which descended to their ankles. Even the very youngest females, mere toddlers, wore them.

"They're all very quiet too," Bellamy noted. "The women, I mean. I've tried talking to a few, but they always just skitter away. It's not a good sign. I wonder if there's…." he searched for the right word, drawing up one from the history books, "sexism? Is that what it's called?"

"I think so," Clarke replied with a small nod. "All their leaders are men. I've been excluded from all of their discussions; they've only ever negotiated with Kane and Jaha. It can't just be a coincidence." Indeed, from what Clarke and the others had been able to decipher, Cadogan ruled the Second Dawn with his inner circle which consisted of four or five males who were probably Kane's age or older. The group of Second Dawn leaders was usually referred to as "the elders". Breaking from pattern, Cadogan's teenage son Andrew also seemed to be part of it, which made Clarke think that maybe he was being groomed to take over as leader some day.

"What a waste." Bellamy said, interrupting Clarke's thoughts. "To not give everyone the same chance to use their skills. Doesn't seem fair – or smart." He grasped his hands together as he spoke.

Clarke lowered her voice, feeling like despite the privacy of the room, they should still be careful when discussing such matters. "When Raven and Monty are back from engineering, we'll talk more."

Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, and Monty had already discussed a covert mission to monitor Cadogan and his inner circle, and see if there was any advantage Skaikru could quietly gain. Both Monty and Raven's computer and technical skills, as well as their access to engineering and the bunker's systems and mainframe, would be crucial for that, of course.

"Yes," Bellamy agreed. "Raven will figure out a way. She always does." He wrapped his arms around himself, a gesture Clarke noted that he didn't usually make.

And although Clarke had gone back to looking straight ahead, she felt his eyes on her. The atmosphere in the room felt as though it had shifted, and Clarke found herself wondering if there was something suddenly different about Bellamy. Had his body tensed up a fraction? Had his voice seemed almost wobbly when he'd spoken that last sentence?

"Can I put my arm around you?" Bellamy asked, and Clarke's heart raced at the prospect.

"Yes. Please do," she managed to get out, leaning into Bellamy as he reached out a strong arm to wrap around her.

Clarke relaxed at the feeling and weight of his arm around her, sighing as she felt his hand gently squeeze and massage the tense muscles of her shoulder, offering her the comfort and relief she so desperately needed. Bellamy was, she knew, the only one who understood her so completely and somehow seemed to know what she needed without the need for words. He accepted all of her – the good and the bad and everything in between. In the middle of war and bloodshed, and now the confusion and alienation due to their strange surroundings, Bellamy was a safe haven for her. Relaxing into this arm didn't make her forget the monstrosities of the world around her, but it did ease the burden.

And then suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Bellamy's arm fell back to his side, and Clarke couldn't help the way her shoulders tensed up again at the loss. "Come in!" she rasped, clearing her dry throat.

The door opened and in stepped Kane.

"Bellamy, good. You're here too," the chancellor said. "Can you both please come with me?"

Clarke noted Kane's furrowed brow and wary eyes as she and Bellamy shot each other worried looks. "Is something wrong?" Clarke asked, a feeling of dread slowly falling over her.

"It's easier if we talk elsewhere," Kane answered in a quiet voice, his eyes darting around the room as if he was concerned they were being watched. "Come with me."

As they walked through the corridors, Kane seemed to shift back to his usual polite and calm demeanor, making small talk and asking Bellamy, "How are you settling into your room?" A few Second Dawn members passed them in the hallway, pushing laundry carts.

"Uh, fine," Bellamy answered, confused at Kane's seemingly pointless question. "Miller's a good roommate," he continued, seeming to sense that keeping up the appearance of normalcy when in the vicinity of Second Dawn members was important. "We both wanted the top bunk. Somehow he ended up winning and got his way. At least he didn't snore last night."

Kane led Clarke and Bellamy to what appeared to be Jaha's room, since the former chancellor himself was there. He was seated at his desk and rose to his feet when he caught sight of them, as the three of them entered the room.

As soon as Kane closed the door behind him, he cleared his throat before turning to the small group, and began to speak. "We need to talk," he said. "The Second Dawn leaders have made more demands and it's not good."

* * *

**To Be Continued**

**Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who left a comment. They are very much appreciated!_

**Chapter Two – Less than a week since moving to the bunker**

Med bay inside the bunker was a model of cleanliness and efficiency. The head doctor was a white-haired man named Dr. Jones, and he had just left for what he referred to as his "afternoon break". Before departing he told Abby and Jackson, "I trust you and the nurses to keep everything in order in the meantime." Jackson noted that med bay was quiet that day, with only two patients, both of whom were currently sleeping – so clearly he and Abby would have no trouble keeping the place running.

Moments later, a young woman entered med bay, pushing a cart with steaming pots and mugs, interrupting Jackson's thoughts. Apparently afternoon tea time was a big deal inside the bunker, and the nurses eagerly reached for their mugs before dispersing to chat. Abby nodded for Jackson to do the same, and both Skaikru doctors soon found themselves sitting in chairs along the wall, sipping the warm tea. Breaks were a luxury that neither Abby nor Jackson had ever experienced much of before, and they decided to take advantage of this one. Jackson had to admit that he was enjoying the respite, noting how much he liked the feeling of the warm mug in his hands.

"I never asked you why you did it," Abby began, turning to look at him. "Why you took the chip."

Jackson remained quiet for a few moments. Whether it was the mild infusion of caffeine from the tea, which his system was unused to, or the surprising question from Abby, he wasn't sure but he felt almost dizzy.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" he asked, shaking his head. "We've been through so much since the Ark crashed to the ground, that I almost feel like the City of Light was just a bad dream."

"I know what you mean," Abby said with a nod, taking another sip of her tea before lowering it and meeting Jackson's eyes with a slightly somber look. "Maybe we'll all finally get some time to sort out our pasts here. Find a way to make peace with the decisions we've had to make, and the things we've had to do to survive. Get our humanity back."

"Maybe," Jackson agreed and then paused, a feeling of grief washing over him at Abby's words. "I think I took the chip because I was lonely, and hurting from dealing with other people's pain for so long. I still feel it…every time I lose a patient. It takes a toll, you know?"

Abby nodded, a haunted and heavy look in her eyes, one that Jackson felt like a resounding ache in his chest. He felt guilty and weak for having given into the easy 'out' the chip had offered him. For allowing himself to believe in the lie that there was a quick fix for dealing with his pain, when as a man of medicine he should have known better. There were rarely quick fixes for healing the body, and he knew now the same was true for ailing hearts. He just wished he hadn't had to learn that the hard way.

"I know that what I did was wrong, Abby. You must think I'm the lowest—"

"No, no," Abby cut him off, a stern and resolute look on her face. "I don't look down on anyone who chose to take it. I just wanted to know what was going on with you. I care about you, Jackson. And if you're ever hurting like that again, I want you to know that you can come to me, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Abby." Jackson replied, a slight tremble in his voice. He wasn't sure why, but in that moment, Abby reminded him of his mother. Although the two women were as different as night and day in their appearance, mannerisms, and even their voices (Jackson's mother's voice had been soft and soothing and light), both showed that they cared about him. Mary Jackson was the reason he'd decided to devote his life to healing people in the first place. She had been dead for over a decade now, but the loss still remained a constant ache beneath the surface, one he was reminded of every time a patient of his was lost. It reminded him of the fragility and uncertainty of life, of the loneliness and isolation he'd felt when she'd passed. He could never quite seem to shake the feeling since, although having found purpose as a doctor – and having a mentor like Abby - helped.

Jackson found himself still longing for more though. He wished he had a confidant, a partner, and most importantly of all, a life-long companion and friend. Someone he could go to on his darkest days, when the loss and loneliness felt like they were more than he could bear. Someone he could go to on his good days too, and share his feelings of happiness and success. It wasn't just life's sorrows he wanted to share with someone, but its joys as well. It had been too long since he'd had either of these things, and he knew he needed to remedy that. And yet, speaking of joy and remedies, he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face at the thought of the person who'd been bringing both of those things to his life lately. He was grateful for his friendship with Nathan Miller and how it had slowly begun to develop into something more. Maybe for once, Jackson wouldn't have to be so alone in this world.

"Of course." Abby said, interrupting his stream of thoughts, reminding him of the comfort and support she'd been offering him.

They met each other's eyes, and Jackson could once again see a genuine look of care and understanding reflected in Abby's eyes, and gave a small nod in return. It was good to feel seen and understood. He watched as Abby looked around med bay, taking note of the two nurses who were chatting and standing just out of earshot.

"How are you settling in here?" Abby asked, bringing her attention back to him.

"Just fine," Jackson answered. "My roommate is Sergeant David Miller. He's a really kind man." He paused, deciding how much he wanted to share with Abby before casually adding, "And Nathan's his son, so I've gotten to see him a few times over the past few days too."

"That's nice," Abby said smiling warmly at him. "I'm glad to hear you've made a new friend who can help keep an eye on you when I can't."

"I think he might be more than just a friend," Jackson said, the need to share his feelings of excitement with someone overriding the part of his brain that was telling him it was unprofessional to do so with Abby. "I really like him, and I'm starting to think that he might like me too. He's been making time to talk to me, stopping by my room multiple times a day, even when he knows his father isn't there. Not to mention the fact that Sergeant Miller has been not so subtly dropping a few hints, about the fact that he thinks I'm a much better 'friend' to Miller than his ex Bryan ever was."

"Yeah. About that." Abby's voice held a note of warning, as she looked around the room to ensure the nurses were still a good distance away. She leaned in and lowered her voice a few octaves. "Be careful."

The admonition surprised Jackson, especially since in the past Abby had encouraged him to be open to having another boyfriend someday. He let her directive hang in the air for a few beats before responding. "Why?" he whispered back, his eyes growing wide in concern.

"I think that our hosts here might not…be receptive to that. If you and Miller were to get together so to speak."

"You mean… because I'm older than Nate?" Jackson asked, truly puzzled. "It's not that much of a gap - and he's had to grow up fast."

Abby reached out to squeeze Jackson's forearm, carefully shaking her head before rising to her feet. "Follow me into the medical supply closet," she ordered quietly, causing Jackson's heart to race in worry. What was going on? Why was Abby being so secretive and why did she look so afraid?

Jackson was quick to follow her into the supply closet, closing the door behind them, and anxiously awaiting an explanation.

Abby took a breath. "It has nothing to do with your ages. There are some things I need to tell you - about what Kane and Jaha have heard from…our hosts."

* * *

Bellamy stood next to Clarke as the two faced Kane and Jaha head on.

Moments ago he'd been sitting next to Clarke on a bed with his arm around her. Throughout his life, Bellamy had been bold and confident when it came to girls, but it had taken no small measure of courage on his part to ask Clarke if he could put his arm around her. And she'd said yes! He'd felt so warm and comfortable sitting there next to her and holding her close. It had been a moment of quiet comfort and reprieve amidst the chaos that had been their lives since landing on the ground. And although it had been short lived, it had been everything Bellamy had been longing for. And then of course Kane had to come in and ruin it, grabbing them for the emergency of the day.

The sense of comfort he'd felt sitting with Clarke had been a new experience for Bellamy – while getting pulled away for something urgent and unpleasant certainly was very familiar territory for him. For both of them, he knew.

"Okay," Bellamy said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We already agreed to attend their religious services. What new demands are they making?"

Jaha took a breath. "They told us that they'd like the women in Skaikru to dress the same way that the Second Dawn women dress."

Clarke shut her eyes. "Well, I can't say this is a total surprise. But it's not going to happen."

"Did they say…why?" Bellamy asked, feeling a pang in his chest at Clarke's frustration and the implication of Jaha's words. What the former chancellor had said made no sense to him. Why the hell would anyone care what someone else was wearing? And why was the Second Dawn focused on just the females and not all of Skaikru including the men? Well, he silently reminded himself, this wasn't the first time he'd seen other people with strange rules about people's clothing. Miller had told him just the other day that the Mount Weather authorities had told him to remove his beanie as it had violated their "dress code". He'd also added, 'They had chocolate cake and gave me all the food I wanted, so I probably would've worn anything they told me to.'

"Well," Kane said, bringing Bellamy back to the present moment. "They feel that the women in Skaikru are dressed – I believe the word they used was 'immodestly'," he answered, his facial expression leaving no doubt about how he felt.

And Bellamy mirrored Kane's expression of disapproval. Octavia would never, ever agree to this dress code. Nor would Clarke or Raven, or any of the other women he knew. Given how Octavia had raged at their decision to exclude the grounders, he shuddered to think of how she'd react to this.

As horrible as this news was, Bellamy was glad that he and Clarke were being included in leadership discussions again. Clarke especially had not taken the exclusion well. He knew how difficult it was for her to give up that control and leave it to others. But their last few weeks had been focused on the chaos of moving Skaikru into the bunker with the death wave biting at their heels. Their choices had been limited. Clarke had organized the move and facilitated getting everyone settled in. Skaikru had been torn from the Ark and then torn from Arkadia once again for the unknown. Bellamy had comforted some of them while assisting with the move. Octavia refused to be comforted, but others just welcomed having someone to vent to. Bellamy knew it wouldn't undo the actions he'd taken under Pike, but Kane had told him to turn the page on yesterday and do better, and that's what Bellamy had been trying to do.

"Well, we obviously can't agree to that," Clarke responded, interrupting his thoughts. "We have to find a way to get them to see reason." She then gave a sardonic little laugh and added, "Also, - do they really have 220 extra dresses just laying around?"

Bellamy gave a slight smirk at her sarcastic comment, appreciating her humor and admiring her unwavering firmness in this situation.

"Clarke, let's not be unreasonable here," Jaha interjected, his dismissive tone causing anger to flare in Bellamy's chest. "The Second Dawn is allowing us to stay here with the understanding that we would abide by their rules and respect their religion. If this is part of it, then maybe we should consider it. We don't know what the potential repercussions will be if we don't."

"Would they toss us out over this?" Bellamy asked. He was trying to process all the emotions running through his body now, and he was incredulous at the idea that Skaikru might be kicked out of the Second Dawn bunker – and thus sentenced to certain death – over something as insignificant as a dress code.

"I don't know," Jaha replied, in his infuriatingly placid tone.

Bellamy looked from Jaha to Kane. "Well, that's something we need to know," he stated gruffly, trying to hold back his anger at how cryptic and unaffected they both appeared. "Cadogan and his elders can't be trusted. And now you're telling us there's a possibility that lives could be in danger for not following a dress code. If something is putting our survival at risk, then we deserve to know."

"He's right," Clarke insisted, her gaze now steadily focused on Kane. "You two have spent the most time with the elders. It's time you tell us everything. We barely know anything about them. We know they practice a religion and they have services every day. We know their leaders are all male, which many of us truly had thought was just a coincidence," she pointed out. "Monty and Raven are trying to learn more about their food and engineering systems and how to access them so we can understand how this place runs. But we have big gaps in our knowledge and we need to understand more about their mindset. What else do the two of you know?" she asked, placing a hard emphasis on that last sentence.

Jaha shook his head and began, "We can't just-"

"They're right, Thelonius," Kane said, cutting him off. "We need to tell them more." The two men held each other's gazes for a tense moment of silence where neither seemed willing to budge. Eventually Jaha gave a slight nod of appeasement, and Kane turned to them both. "As far as the immediate issue of the dress code is concerned, we've asked their leaders to table it for now. We explained that many of our people don't practice a religion, and that it's going to be a big shift to get them to attend services – let alone change the way they've been dressing their entire lives. We were able to buy some time, and they agreed to hold off on enforcing the policy for now. However," he paused, taking in a breath before exhaling, "they were clear that they won't be deterred forever".

"Okay, well that's a start," Clarke said, leveling Kane with a steely gaze. "But it's not enough." She paused, searching for Bellamy's eyes. He gave her a reassuring nod, wanting her to know that he had her back in this. "Tell us everything you know," she finished.

"No more secrets." Bellamy added, keeping his voice firm and resolute.

"No more secrets," she echoed in agreement.

Bellamy's heart skittered a bit as Clarke took a step forward to stand next to him and their shoulders lightly brushed.

"Okay," Kane said, nodding in agreement. "But you may want to take a seat. You're not going to like what I have to say."

* * *

Abby and Jackson stood facing each other inside the med bay storage closet. The tea they'd been drinking moments before would have been an unheard-of treat just days ago, but in light of this new information, its comforts had been quickly forgotten.

"If you and Miller were to get together, the issue wouldn't be your age difference," Abby began flatly. "They don't approve of two women or two men being…together. In a romantic or sexual relationship." Abby drew in a breath before releasing it, her shoulders tensing up as she gripped her hands. "I'm so worried for Clarke!" she burst out.

"Abby, hey," Jackson said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and trying to comfort her, even as he fought off his own anxiety and fear. "It's going to be okay," he said soothingly. "Clarke is so strong, and she always manages to deal with whatever comes her way. But – have you talked to her about this? I don't know if she's involved with anyone now, but she needs to know right away if being with another woman could get her into trouble here."

Jackson was trying to remain calm and level-headed but he felt acute fear at the implications of Abby's words. What exactly did "they don't approve" mean, and were there consequences for those people who had relationships with members of the same sex? From the time he was 12 or 13 years old, Jackson had been drawn to other males, wishing for a boyfriend, craving the feel of another boy's arms around him, wanting to kiss another boy, and of course eventually do more than kiss. He continued to desire that, especially the part about having another guy kiss and hold him. And the idea that he would have to suppress that natural urge and hide who he really was for five long years made him feel incredibly lonely and distraught. It also left him feeling confused.

On the Ark, no one thought twice about whom – if anyone – you were attracted to. When his mother had been nearing the end, Jackson had mentioned to her that he liked guys, and she had told him that any man would be lucky to have him. But Jackson knew from History class that this acceptance had not always existed in every culture and time period. People like him had faced persecution, mistreatment, and even death. The untold horrors of history. Were the people of Second Dawn part of those cultures and eras? If so, what did that mean for him - or for Miller or Clarke or any others like them? Standing here inside the med bay closet with Abby, Jackson forced himself to swallow his fear and focus on the present moment instead. First and foremost, he knew he needed to comfort Abby. Seeing her in distress made his whole world feel off-kilter.

Abby stepped back and rubbed her temples, before looking down. "I've been avoiding the subject. It just makes me feel sick. I don't even know what to say to her, and I think she'll be upset." She paused and took a pronounced breath in what Jackson knew was an attempt to calm herself down. "But you're right. I need to tell her." Abby said, closing her eyes. Jackson felt almost instant relief at her words. "When you mentioned Miller a minute ago, I guess it just jolted me into action."

Jackson tried to process the information and continue to keep his own emotions in check. He knew he needed to get more details. "Can you tell me what exactly you heard? How hostile are they to the idea of two people of the same sex being together? Certainly they don't…I mean they can't be against two people loving each other, can they? We're all adults here, no one is going to be engaging in any sexual activities outside of their private rooms," he added with an incredulous laugh.

"I don't know all the details!" Abby replied, clearly exasperated at the situation they were stuck in. "It sounds like they do strongly object to it. Kane told me that apparently he and Jaha pressed Cadogan hard on why they disliked the grounders so much. They learned that the Second Dawn elders have always had…spies who would leave the bunker and observe the grounders. They hated the fact that the grounders had women who were leaders and warriors. And they hated the fact that the grounders had same-sex couples. They believe it's gravely immoral for anyone to even be attracted to a member of the same sex." She crossed her arms and looked upwards. "They especially despised Lexa, as you can imagine. The very woman my daughter was in love with!"

Jackson put aside trying to absorb what Abby's words would mean for himself, and decided to try to steer the conversation away from Clarke. As long as Abby was worried about her daughter, she wouldn't think rationally, he knew. "I guess that explains what we've been seeing in med bay. Dr. Jones tends to treat you like you're more of a nurse than a doctor." It had been as infuriating as it had been puzzling. Dr. Jones would address Jackson and make eye contact with him, but refused to do so with Abby, no matter how much Abby had asserted herself.

"And here I thought he just didn't like my personality," Abby quipped, though Jackson wasn't sure if she was trying to make a dark joke or not. If Abby was using humor to cope with this situation, she must really be at wit's end.

As he continued to take in all the information from Abby, Jackson had another thought. "You mentioned that the Second Dawn has always had spies who'd leave the bunker. I noticed they have a lot of potassium iodide-based drugs here." Jackson felt a measure of comfort in turning his thoughts back to medicine. The Second Dawn's attitudes might be inexplicable, but at least math and science would always make sense.

"Anti-radiation," Abby confirmed. "In strong enough doses they could protect someone from radiation for a few days. A lot of potential for bad side effects, but – well, that must be how they're able to send out spies."

A knock sounded on the closet door causing them both to jump. One of the nurses called out, "Skaikru doctors, are you in there? I need a syringe."

"We'll be out in just a second," Abby called back, turning around to face Jackson again. A look of fear had returned to her face.

"What…what do they do with people like me?" he whispered. "Those who love others of the same sex."

"I don't know."

* * *

Every morning, Clarke and the other Skaikru leaders did what every other member of Skaikru was required to do: show up for their assigned work duty for the day. Clarke, Kane, and the other leaders knew it was important that they be seen doing the same labor as any other member of Skaikru. After all, they weren't on the Ark anymore. No Alpha Station, no Factory Station – just Skaikru. Today Clark was assigned laundry duty. She, along with several other people from Skaikru and the Second Dawn, buzzed about the large, stuffy laundry room. The machines were noisy giants, but Clarke appreciated their efficiency.

She didn't, however, appreciate handling the Second Dawn uniforms. Each woman, even young girls, wearing the same bulky shift each day. The fabric wasn't coarse, but the monotony of the dresses and the thought of having no choice in the matter made Clarke's head hurt. She continued to fold the dresses.

"Hey. Need some help?"

Clarke turned to suddenly find Bellamy standing next to her. "Bellamy! What are you doing here?" she asked, her brow knit in confusion, even as her heart started to race from the excitement of having him near. "Miller said you pulled bathroom-cleaning duty this morning."

"I did," Bellamy said with a slight grimace. "But I'm done now and I heard you were here. Just wanted to see if I could help." He finished the statement with a small smile and a shrug, as if what he was offering her was no big deal.

But to Clarke it was a big deal.

She took a few seconds to digest his words. Bellamy's offer to help may have seemed like a small gesture to some, but the sheer thoughtfulness and consideration at the heart of it felt incredibly meaningful to her. "Uh, yes, of course. I mean it's always good to spend time with y—"

"Excuse me," a female member of Second Dawn cut Clarke off as she shuffled up to the two of them. "Please, men aren't allowed to touch the women's garments." Her voice was timid and her words sounded somewhere between a request and a command.

"Oh," Bellamy said, awkwardly backing away from the stack of dresses, his hands automatically going up. "Sorry."

The woman gestured to a collection of large baskets perched atop a nearby table. "You can fold these if you'd like." The various colors, sizes, and textures indicated that the baskets were filled with men's clothing.

"Of course," Bellamy said, as he and Clarke exchanged a look.

They then set about their work, quietly. A few times, Clarke made excuses to brush against Bellamy's arm as she reached for a basket. Touching him gave her a moment of peace in this strange setting.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Clarke and Bellamy walked slowly down the hallway, making their way to Clarke's room. To Bellamy, it felt as if each foot had a leaden weight pressing on it as he plodded along. Clarke opened the door to her room, and they wordlessly resumed their positions from the other day: sitting side by side on her bed. Only this time Bellamy noted that they were much closer.

Neither was the type of person to bemoan their fate. They'd been handed a rough deck of cards, but so had pretty much everyone else in Skaikru from the moment they were born. Still, their current predicament was a tricky one.

"We're stuck." Bellamy finally stated, breaking the comfortable silence between them and voicing what felt like an ever-growing feeling of dread.

"Yeah," Clarke responded, her voice sounding strained.

"Our food and shelter depend on people with these bizarre attitudes. Most of the grounders were easier to deal with," Bellamy exhaled, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Sitting next to Clarke, his heart rate was already beginning to climb. He tried not to think about the fact that it was his close proximity to Clarke causing it, and not his anger at the Second Dawn.

"Well maybe not Azgeda," Clarke responded sardonically. "But yeah, the Second Dawn people are only going to keep asking us for more, given that they already led with mandatory religious services. We've been here less than a week, and they already want us to follow a dress code. Well," she quickly corrected herself, "only the women have to follow a dress code. Apparently we don't matter here." Clarke took a frustrated breath. "I know that most of us appreciate the fact that they saved us from the death wave. But we don't want to be manipulated. And enforcing a dress code, especially for only half of our population, is going to make us feel like objects."

"Octavia is never going to…" Bellamy let his voice trail off as his heart clenched up. Octavia would never agree to any of this. Would she even be able to **survive **in a place like this? Sixteen years under the floor, then the Sky Box, then a few months on the ground with a measure of freedom, and now confinement again. Would she choose Praimfaya over the Second Dawn people? Would Bellamy be able to convince her to stay? **Should **he?

"I **do** believe Kane when he says that he and Jaha have tried to reason with them," Clarke admitted. "I trust Kane."

"Is there more we should have done?" Bellamy wondered, tilting his head upwards. "I mean to have avoided ending up down here in the first place. The nightblood cure didn't work. And the Ark would've only housed a hundred people."

"And it wouldn't have been ready in time anyway," Clarke added. "The death wave approached faster than ALIE said it would. We ran out of time and options." She took a breath. "So here we are now. Inside our last resort."

Bellamy sat quietly for a moment. He – and the rest of Skaikru - had narrowly escaped death this time. But he knew that nothing was guaranteed. Lost in his thoughts, he gazed at Clarke, his eyes tracing over the smooth planes of her face before settling on her lips. Despite their surroundings, despite all the uncertainty, somehow just looking at Clarke made Bellamy feel _something_. A measure of reassurance, he knew. It was almost as if he were lost in the woods right after the dropship landed but Clarke was his compass.

Bellamy blinked. He realized that he'd been gazing at Clarke's lips for longer than was appropriate. Had she also been gazing at his? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

"I'm glad you're here, Bellamy," Clarke said quietly, her voice raspy and breathy, her blue eyes earnest and sincere.

"Yeah," Bellamy breathed out lowly, feeling his heart start to race at how beautiful Clarke looked and sounded right now. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here," he added, leaning in closer as he spoke. "Remember when we first found this place? And what Jaha said about leadership being a lonely pursuit?"

"Yeah. I said it was a lot less lonely because of you. I still think that," Clarke insisted.

"Me too. I mean, you're our leader but each day in this place feels a lot better because of you."

Bellamy noticed that Clarke was now leaning in closer to him too, and his stomach swooped when she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. It was, Bellamy noted, such a simple gesture at face value. But it also felt life-saving and reassuring and nourishing – while also making his skin feel hot. Sitting next to Clarke and wanting to kiss her made his chest thrum with excitement and worry. And yet he knew he needed this. Needed her. He sometimes felt as though there was an invisible force pulling them together.

Bellamy decided to just go for it. For all he knew, he and the others would be forcibly removed from the bunker in a few days for refusing to comply with the Second Dawn's rules. Life had always been perilous, and perhaps now more so than ever. If they didn't have much time left, he didn't want to have any regrets.

"Hey Clarke," he began, his voice soft and slightly trembling, belying to Clarke how he felt. His cheeks were warm too as he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, as far as Bellamy could tell. But then he saw Clarke's hand reaching for him, and he shivered when he felt her fingertips touching the side of his face. Bellamy's heart raced as he leaned into her touch, and when he felt her drawing him to her, his eyes fluttered closed and it took all of his quickly fading willpower to hold himself back.

Their lips touched, very softly. It was just a dusting of a kiss, but it made Bellamy feel almost light-headed. He heard a soft moan and wasn't sure whose it was, and then suddenly their lips were pressing against each other's, hard. He opened his mouth, tasting Clarke for the first time.

Touching Clarke's lips with his own was everything Bellamy had hoped and dreamed it would be. He'd had his share of kisses in the past, but kissing Clarke felt so different and new. Like he was experiencing true intimacy for the first time. He'd felt connected to Clarke from the moment he'd first met her, despite their mutual dislike back then. He'd always been so drawn to her. Whether it was her bravery or brilliance back then, he didn't know. All he knew was that he always ended up needing her. And he knew that right now he loved her strength, her heart, her beauty.

Her fingers remained on his cheek, and that contact alone felt both soft and electrifying at the same time. They continued to kiss, getting lost in the sensations and feelings, when suddenly Clarke abruptly pulled away. A second later Bellamy saw why. Raven and Monty had entered their room.

"Finally!" Raven remarked upon seeing Clarke and Bellamy extracting themselves from their kiss. She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before making her way across the room. She then stood in front of them with her hands on her hips, and it was clear that she was ready to get down to business.

"The Second Dawn people are mindless idiots. And sexist," Raven declared, clearly irritated.

"Let me guess," Clarke said. Her voice sounded steady and assertive, with no hints of being flustered despite Raven and Monty having just seen her and Bellamy kissing. "Their engineers barely spoke to you, they directed everything to Monty, and acted like you barely existed."

"Yep!" Raven spat out angrily, and Bellamy could tell the issue was getting to them all.

"Pretty much," Monty agreed. "Except they didn't tell me much either. Getting any information from these people is like pulling teeth. However…."

Monty went on to describe what they had learned and what they could do. Clarke did what she always did so well: began to formulate plans.

Bellamy admired Clarke's ability to think through and process such complex information. When Monty or Raven spoke about engineering, he had to force himself to listen. The subject of engineering wasn't within his comfort zone in the first place, and all he could think about was that he desperately wanted Clarke back in his arms again. Her body had felt so soft, and her mouth had tasted and felt so exquisite. She'd even smelled good. What he wouldn't give for Raven and Monty's arrival to have been even a few minutes later.

Even as Raven and Monty spoke, Clarke held onto Bellamy's hand tightly. Every now and then she would give him a pointed glance and stroke her thumb along his knuckles, leaving few if any doubts that the kiss had meant a lot to her too.

But Bellamy knew he needed to focus if they were going to find a way to live with - and survive - the Second Dawn for the next five years.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three – Ten Days Since Moving to the Bunker**

Meals were served at specific times of the day, and on this evening Jackson entered the crowded cafeteria for dinner. It boasted rows of wooden tables and chairs, artwork on the walls, and plants hanging from the ceiling. Despite being underground and despite the apparent rigidity of their religion, the Second Dawn kept their home looking cozy. The lighting was warm and yellow-toned, emanating from light scones on the walls. The artwork was muted and understated, some of it depicting themes from nature and others showing images and themes pertaining to the Second Dawn religion. Jackson reached for a tray, stood in a line, and received the food that was doled out to him. Growing up on the Ark and often having nothing to eat other than nutrition cubes, Jackson had always tried to accept the fact that food wasn't a means to pleasure. It was just something the body needed in order to keep going, and to wish for more was to invite disappointment. But he'd heard other members of Skaikru describe the meals here as delicious and as the best part of living here.

Once Jackson's portion had been placed onto his tray, he turned to look for a seat. Abby sat nearby with Kane and Clarke. He briefly considered joining them but decided against it. He always tried to be respectful of his colleague's space - the two of them spent so much time together every day, and he had no doubt that Abby might want a break from him. She seemed to be enjoying her conversation with Kane and Clarke as far as Jackson could tell from his glimpse.

And then there, in the distance, he spotted Nathan Miller. He was sitting at a table with Monty, Harper, Jasper, Riley, and a few others. They appeared to be laughing and joking. Jackson's heart jumped a bit at seeing Miller, and he especially adored the way Miller was smiling. But social anxiety quickly took over. The thought of approaching a table full of a group of friends laughing was scary enough and, besides, from this distance, Jackson couldn't quite determine if there were any empty seats at their table anyway.

So Jackson silently took a seat at another table, with a few older members of Skaikru whom he vaguely knew. They greeted him politely before resuming their conversation.

Jackson took a bite of his stew. He had to admit it was pretty good; definitely much better than the cubes on the Ark. As he took another bite, he glanced over to the spinach salad on his tray. He'd eaten spinach once or twice since Skaikru moved into the bunker, and he wasn't sure how he felt about the taste, but he'd read quite a bit about its nutritional value.

"Mind if join you?" a voice asked from behind.

Jackson's pulse picked up as he instantly recognized the man's tone. He swallowed again before turning to face him, despite the fact that his mouth was now empty and slightly dry. Looking up, he saw Nathan Miller standing before him with kind brown eyes and a small grin, and he immediately felt comforted.

"Sure, that'd be great," Jackson replied, nodding to the seat across from him, glad that it was available for Miller. Miller gave Jackson a pat on the back before taking the seat. The rest of their table companions continued to talk away, oblivious.

"So, what have you been up to today?" Jackson asked, once Miller settled in. He loved being able to just look at Miller. His smile and his bright eyes. And those strong shoulders and arms, arms which Jackson wanted around him. Even Miller's legs and hips looked sturdy and powerful, which just made Jackson's heart race.

Their conversation seemed to flow naturally from there as Miller told Jackson about his day. "Real exciting stuff," Miller answered wryly. "Today I learned how to clean the kitchen, and they told me tomorrow I'll be on bathroom-cleaning duty. Can't wait."

Jackson chuckled at the slight-grimace-turned-smile on Miller's face, appreciating his humor. Miller's sarcasm and humor were always refreshing, and listening to and watching it on display made Jackson feel warm all over. It just lightened some of the ever-present heaviness in his chest.

When Miller asked him about med bay, Jackson was happy to be able to share about his day with someone who wasn't a co-worker. He often felt better after his talks with Miller, and today seemed like it would be no different. "I still can't believe how well run and well stocked the med bay is here. Dr. Jones was his usual stern self today, but all the nurses are still nice." Not wanting to only talk about work, he then added, "Your dad continues to be a great roommate, by the way. He keeps the place tidy, and I think once he falls asleep, he sleeps like a baby. And he doesn't even snore." Jackson silently winced, worried he was starting to ramble. It wasn't the first time he'd rambled around Miller.

"Sounds like my dad for sure," Miller said, fondness for his dad clearly coming across in his tone.

"I really love that you're close with your dad," Jackson said. "That's – well, it's nice." His heart was continuing to pound, just sitting here talking with Miller about every day life.

"He's a pretty easy guy to get along with," Miller responded. "His cadets in the guard love him too, though he's gotta be careful to be stern when he needs to. He knows he's gotta make it clear that he's their boss and not their uncle."

Jackson chuckled, "I could see how that may get confusing for some. Your father does have a tendency of being very…comforting and steady in his interactions with others. Very fatherly. You're lucky to have him."

"Don't I know it," Miller said, meeting Jackson's gaze with a fond look and smile, and Jackson had to fight against the wistful feeling in his chest that was hoping some of that fondness was for him. The longer the moment stretched on, the harder it was to fight.

The moment between them was suddenly broken when Miller abruptly turned his head to look at something, his brow furrowing and a small frown spreading across his face. Jackson felt worry poke at his chest as he turned to follow Miller's gaze. His eyes landed on Bryan, Miller's ex-boyfriend who was walking by. Bryan unexpectedly tossed Jackson a look as he walked past them, one which Jackson could only describe as sour.

"So," Jackson began, focusing his eyes back on Miller. Miller sat stiffly, looking down at his plate with a slight frown on his face. "Bryan's your ex…", he trailed off, unsure of what to say next. The two men had had several conversations since they'd moved to the bunker but this was the first time their conversation had headed towards the topic of exes.

"Yep," Miller answered, looking up to meet Jackson's eyes. He shrugged. "It – well, it just didn't work out." He took a swig of his water. "What about you?" he asked. "Do you have someone? Or an ex?"

"I had a boyfriend on the Ark. But we broke up years ago. He didn't make it to the ground. I hope-" Jackson abruptly cut himself off, remembering what Abby had told him yesterday about the attitudes the Second Dawn had regarding same-sex couples. There were Second Dawn people all around them right now, sitting at various tables and walking past theirs. Were they listening? What exactly would they do if they knew that both Miller and Jackson liked men? Jackson realized he would have to get into the habit of censoring himself.

"What's wrong?" Miller asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Jackson knew he had to tell Miller what he'd learned. His eyes darted around the crowded cafeteria before he turned back to look at him. "Can we talk somewhere in private?" Jackson asked, trying to hide the slight feeling of panic rising in his gut.

Miller smiled, misinterpreting the situation, as he reached for Jackson's hand. "I'd love to keep you company in private," he answered, his voice low and smooth, a glint in his dark brown eyes.

Jackson abruptly pulled his hand away, looking around worriedly to see if anyone had seen them.

"Oh!" Miller said. "I hope I didn't misunderstand where you were coming fr-"

"No, no. That's not it!" Jackson reassured him, breathing in and awkwardly clearing his throat. "I mean, uh, I too would like to keep you company. In private. But," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "there's something we need to discuss. About our hosts and some strange attitudes they have."

"Okay," Miller whispered back, looking confused but wanting to hear more. "Let's discuss it when you're done eating then. As you said, in private."

Jackson nodded in relief before glancing down at their trays. Miller had, of course, eaten most of his meal when he'd been sitting with Monty and the others – and everything else had been consumed soon after he'd joined Jackson. Sergeant Miller had in fact mentioned several times that his son had quite the appetite. So Jackson reached for the slice of cake on his own tray. "Did you want this? It's too rich and sugary for me; my stomach isn't used to this sort of food."

Miller's eyes lit up at the prospect. "Yes, please!"

After they both finished eating, the two men got up to clear their trays and find somewhere more private to talk. On their way out of the dining hall Abby waved them over, and they approached the table where Abby sat with Kane and Clarke. After a couple minutes of recounting their days to one another, Abby stood up and grabbed Jackson by the arm, excusing them from the group

"What's wrong?" Jackson whispered, as Abby steered him aside. He was worried, especially given their last conversation on the topic of Nathan Miller.

"You have something green in your teeth!"

Jackson just laughed, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.

* * *

Jackson and Miller headed for Jackson's room. (During the walk, an awkward conversation had taken place regarding spinach in Jackson's teeth. The conversation had ended with Miller promising to tell him if something similar ever happened again).

They reached Jackson's room, and once again faced potential embarrassment upon seeing that Jackson's roommate – Miller's father – was perched atop his bed, reading.

"I'll, uh, leave you two boys alone!" Sergeant Miller said, almost as soon as the door was opened. He reached for the ladder to climb down from the bunk.

"We could always go somewhere else!" Jackson responded, quickly.

"No, it's no problem at all," the Sergeant insisted as he descended. "You two be good," he added with a knowing smile as soon as his feet touched the floor. He then opened the door to exit the room.

"Uh, thanks dad. We will," Miller replied, smiling lopsidedly.

_Maybe rooming with the father of the guy you have a crush on was not that great of an idea_, Jackson mused.

As Jackson searched for a better conversation opener, Miller took a step closer to him. The thought that he was now alone with Miller caused excitement to pound inside of him. He tried to hold it back, especially given the unpleasant information he needed to share.

"So, uh, what is it that you wanted to tell me in private?" Miller asked, almost as if reading his mind.

Jackson swallowed and relayed his conversation with Abby. He spared no detail.

"So…wait, wait?" Miller stuttered. "The people here just think it's wrong for two men or two women to be a couple? Why would that even matter to someone?"

"It sounds like it's against the religion they practice. I'm still trying to make sense of it, but we might…well, we might need to be careful of what we say in public."

"But the Second Dawn have like 300 people. They have to have plenty of people who **like** members of the same sex! What do they do with them? Just tell them not to?" Miller asked, incredulously. He paused his rant and added, in a somber tone, "Or do they do more than just give them a hard time about it?"

"Remember History classes?" Jackson asked. "I think this attitude was quite common in many societies in the past."

"I guess now's the time I should probably tell you that I'm not much of a scholar," Miller admitted, a sheepish smile on his face. "I'm not a brilliant genius like you. I slept through History class. In fact, I slept through almost every class I took. Then I broke the law and wound up in the Sky Box."

"I know," Jackson said, a slight smile on this face. "I mean, I know that last part about you going to the Sky Box. I'm not one to judge - I've made my share of mistakes too." He went quiet at that, debating with himself. Was now the right time to open up? Well, Jackson decided, Miller had just opened up about his mistakes and had expressed that he thought Jackson was some kind of a genius. Jackson wanted to show Miller that he was far from perfect.

"I willingly took the chip," Jackson admitted, looking downwards. "ALIE's chip. No one forced me – I chose to do it."

Miller shrugged. "So neither of us is perfect. Guess we're only human after all." He then added, "If you ever want to open up about…you know, why you did it – I'm here for you. I love to listen."

The sweetness and sincerity in Miller's eyes made Jackson's insides feel like they were turning into a pleasant goo. "I like you," Jackson managed to get out, and then winced when he realized how insipid the words sounded.

"Good," Miller said, breaking out in a grin and moving just a tad closer to Jackson. He apparently did not find the words insipid. "Because I like you too."

Before Jackson even realized what was happening, Miller audaciously pulled him into a kiss, a kiss which the doctor ardently returned. Any thoughts of the distasteful attitudes of Second Dawn were quickly put aside.

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this," Clarke said.

"Doing what?" Bellamy asked.

"Sitting here doing stuff we enjoy, and not facing mortal danger."

Clarke and Bellamy were alone inside Bellamy's room (his roommate Miller, fortunately, was MIA). As Clarke sat at the desk casually drawing, Bellamy was on the bed reading. He glanced at her, admiring the way her blue eyes seemed to always sparkle even now when they lived in an underground bunker.

"Well if you want danger we can always put on the hazmat suits, open the bunker door, and drive around in the rover," Bellamy quipped before suddenly wincing at his own words.

"Why did you wince?" Clarke asked softly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke about that. The outside is filled with—" He didn't finish the sentence, but if he had the words might have been 'dead grounders'. A new wave of guilt – and even a flash of nausea – slapped him in the face.

"Hey," Clarke set her pen down and rose from the chair to sit next to Bellamy on the bed. She put her hand on his arm. "We've both lived through enough crap in our lives. We've earned the right to make a few dark jokes here and there. And you don't ever have to censor yourself in front of me."

"Thank you," he said, setting his book to the side.

"And besides," she began, with a smile, "I was the one who made the joke about the Second Dawn not having 220 extra dresses laying around." Still smiling, she shook her head. "I think you were the only one who appreciated it though."

Bellamy laughed. "Yeah, if I hadn't been so furious over what Jaha and Kane were saying, I might've even laughed out loud."

Clarke tilted her head to look at the book. "I didn't ask you when I came in…what are you reading?"

"Oh," he said, glancing down at the book. "_Metamorphoses _by Ovid. And yes, I can read something other than old Greek or Roman works – but the library has a ton of old stuff that I haven't seen yet. Gonna take me a while to get through it all though."

"That's a good problem to have."

"Yeah." He paused. "I wonder if this is what it means to not just survive but to thrive."

Bellamy meant the words, though a nagging voice in the back of his head told him he had a long way to go to truly understand what it meant to thrive and not just survive. He suspected the people he loved were a part of it, part of what it meant to really be living. He took comfort not just in Clarke but also in his friends - Miller, Raven, Monty, Harper, and even Jasper despite the fact that the latter was still lost in his grief. And he had his sister too. Even though they had a long way to go in repairing their relationship, the important part was that they were both still alive to do it.

And then there was Clarke.

Their past was no doubt complicated, filled with longing, pain, and regret. But there was also solace, forgiveness, and a level of understanding and compassion for one another that he knew few were lucky to ever get.

He had been hurting after pulling the lever at Mount Weather. After Clarke had left him at the gates of Arkadia to deal with his pain on his own. He'd understood why she'd needed to get away and escape, and had since forgiven her. But at the time it had been hard and he'd sought solace with Gina. With Gina things had been easy; she'd been able to offer him a sense of normalcy and stability that he had never really had since landing on the ground. But she didn't truly know him. Not the real him.

Bellamy turned towards Clarke and slowly reached his arms around her. She gripped the back of his head with her fingers and pulled him into a deep and tender kiss.

* * *

Clarke knew they had a hundred things they could be worrying about right now. But she needed this.

_This_ was Bellamy's lips on her own. Their tongues gently brushing together as they opened up to each other and deepened their kiss. Clarke's hands explored the strong muscles of Bellamy's shoulders and back as he used one of his own to softly grip and stroke the back of her neck. The sensations coursing through Clarke's body were pleasurable and warm, allowing her to forget about the list of things she could worry about for a few moments. She loved the feel of Bellamy's slight stubble gently scratching against her face. She loved the clean scent of his body, overlaid with just a hint of fresh sweat.

Bellamy slowly pulled back from their kiss after several moments, both of them holding each other's gazes and trying to catch their breath. He looked down and reached for Clarke's hands, holding them gently in his own as a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

Clarke could tell he was getting ready to ask her something or say something, and she knew already what the subject would be. The man led with his heart. Always had, always would. And his eyes in that moment could only be described as searching. She knew Bellamy was going to want to have a discussion about what all of this meant and where it might be going. It wouldn't be an easy discussion. Each of them had recently lost a lover.

"Clarke," he began, his voice soft and strained. "I know it might not be the easiest thing, but I wonder if we should talk about what this means."

"We should," Clarke admitted, with a nod, squeezing Bellamy's hand in an attempt to offer him some reassurance. He squeezed her hand back, and Clarke sighed, loving the warm feeling of his hand against hers.

"I know people hook up all the time and it doesn't mean anything," Bellamy said. "I wasn't sure if you…" He let his voice trail off before quickly amending, "Of course I don't want to…assume anything, and I'd never assume that you ever wanted anything more than what we were doing!"

Clarke had to smile. Bellamy was so sweet and so sincere, and always trying to do the right thing. "It's okay," she reassured him. "I didn't feel you were being presumptuous. I'm glad you want to talk before we just jump into….something."

"Right," Bellamy nodded.

His eyes seemed to be imploring Clarke to say more, so she did. "I can say that I'm not looking for just a random hook-up with you. You mean more to me than that."

Clarke observed Bellamy exhale. She felt he was subtle about it but that the look on his face suggested relief.

"Me too. You mean a lot to me."

"Good." Clarke smiled. "Well…shall we continue kissing and just see where things go? Knowing that whatever happens, this isn't going to just be something casual?"

Bellamy answered by reaching for her again and bringing their lips together.

When Bellamy had asked Miller to be his roommate, he'd had a few reasons for doing so. He'd always found Miller easy to be around - the guy didn't seem to have any annoying behaviors or quirks. Bellamy just gelled with him. He wished that they had been friends back on the Ark too.

One night, it was finally "lights out" time in the bunker, and Bellamy was chatting with his roommate. He lay on the bottom bunk, Miller on the top. It was easy to converse in this setting – no ability to make eye contact, and the room was dark anyway except for the emergency "night lights" along the floor.

"Yeah, none of this surprises me," Miller remarked sarcastically after Bellamy had recounted the day's events. "You've been in love with Clarke since the day the damn dropship landed."

"Not true," Bellamy replied, bemused.

"Nah, come on, I'm right."

"Whatever," Bellamy replied. "Look, I'm just glad she wants more than a hookup. I've had enough of those, and Clarke means more than that to me."

"Obviously." Miller paused, and his voice finally seemed to move from its trademark acerbity to sincerity. "I'll have the same talk with Jackson. I promise. When we get to that point," he added.

Miller had already updated Bellamy on his love life earlier that night when they had both come back to the room. Well, he'd shared **part** of it with him anyway. He hadn't told him about the information that Jackson had shared with him about the Second Dawn's strange attitudes. The information had been confusing, and made Miller feel something disturbing in the pit of his stomach, something akin to shame.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four – Two Weeks Since Moving to the bunker**

_**Warning – M/F love scene inside this chapter. If that's not your thing, please skip the last section.**_

* * *

_'__Well I've gone from making battle plans against Mount Weather and fighting an all-powerful AI to mopping the floor.'_

The thought popped into Clarke's head one morning, as she performed her daily work shift - this time it was kitchen duty alongside Kane and a handful of others. Just yesterday she and Bellamy had discussed and debated which was better and which worse. They had landed on the agreement that life here was far better than the nightmares they'd faced before. Yes, it was boring as hell but no one's life was at stake. 'I'd be fine if I never have to say the words _In peace may you leave the shore _again,' she'd said to him, and he'd expressed his agreement.

She was mopping the floor and Kane was putting away dishes and silverware when John Cadogan strode up to them. More accurately, Cadogan strode up to **Kane**. Trailing Cadogan was one of the other Second Dawn elders, though Clarke couldn't recall the other man's name.

"Kane!" Cadogan called out, his voice firm and loud. "We learned that you've been keeping something from us."

"Keeping something?" Kane asked, turning towards Cadogan, clearly confused.

Standing to the side, Clarke tried to gage Cadogan's mood. The Second Dawn leader did not seem especially angry, but he did seem…energized, for lack of a better term. Determined.

"One of your people. Emori, I believe her name is? She was with some of our people when her sleeve slipped. We saw her hand."

"I see," Kane responded calmly. "We weren't intentionally hiding her hand. She's used to keeping it covered because sometimes people find it…off-putting."

Clarke could see the way Kane swallowed after saying those last two words, knowing that he was not the type of person who took such shallow and irrelevant things into consideration. And although Clarke knew that he hid it well, even acknowledging the judgmental feelings others had about the matter seemed to cause Kane some discomfort well. It was something a man like Cadogan would never pick up on - he was too direct and didn't seem to be attuned to the subtleties of life. Which made sense considering the man had spent the majority of his life in an underground bunker and had little experience with the real world or the people in it. Clarke however had become more attuned to Kane and his intricacies as his relationship with her mother had deepened, especially over these past few months.

"She's a grounder, isn't she?" Cadogan asked, though it came out sounding more like a statement than a question.

Although Clarke knew that Kane could handle almost any diplomatic situation, she couldn't remain silent any longer. "Why does it matter?" she asked. "She's a human being. And also, the way her hand looks isn't contagious so you don't need to worry about it."

As Clarke spoke, Cadogan and the other man continued to look at Kane and ignore her altogether. The whole thing made her feel incredibly infuriated and annoyed, like an irritating skin rash prickling at her skin. But based on Second Dawn's general treatment of women and Clarke's own personal experience interacting with Cadogan in the past, she wasn't surprised in the least

"We're not ignorant fools," Cadogan said, his tone even but his voice having a distinct bite to it. "We know her condition in and of itself is not a danger or contagion to us. And we're not heartless monsters. The girl is already here, and we're not about to cast her out into a toxic world." He took a step closer to Kane and narrowed his eyes. "But we don't like being lied to."

"I understand," Kane replied calmly. "I hope that we've more than made up for this incident in other ways. I know that our doctors have already helped upgrade your med bay, and our engineers have made several enhancements to your operating systems. Raven told me just yesterday that the improvements she and Monty made have increased the bunker's air filtration efficiency by ten percent."

Clarke recalled the conversation from the private meetings she, Bellamy, Raven, Monty, and Kane regularly held to update each other on the latest happenings in the bunker. Monty was also working on growing algae to supplement the bunker's food supply, though Kane did not mention that now.

"And my mother, Dr. Griffin," Clarke spoke up. "She performed a very complex surgery on one of your people. Even Dr. Jones was impressed." Clarke made certain to refer to her mother using her title, since the crotchety Dr. Jones usually refused to.

Clarke suspected that she and Kane had successfully conveyed the real reasons why Cadogan wasn't angrier and wasn't threatening to banish Emori. Skaikru's medical and engineering knowledge and advances were valuable to the Second Dawn people.

"I won't deny that your people have helped make some improvements that our people are appreciative of. Just be sure not to lie to us again." Cadogan took a breath before continuing. "Personally, I feel sorry for the girl. I know seeing her hand has disturbed many of my people. But I reasoned with them and assured them there's no reason she can't stay here, provided she keeps that hand covered."

The other Second Dawn elder who had been standing behind Cadogan finally spoke up. "I do feel very sorry for her husband though. Having to look at that hand of hers."

Clarke was momentarily confused at the mention of Emori having a husband, until she remembered that the Second Dawn did not allow unmarried, opposite-sex pairs to share rooms. Many Skaikru couples had simply lied and said they were married, so they could room together. Clarke did have to bite her tongue at the appellation "husband" being applied to John Murphy right now.

"But having a disfigured hand is not immoral," Cadogan added, interrupting Clarke's thoughts. "It's not like she is _queer_ or anything as reprehensible as that."

Clarke knit her brow, and saw a trace of confusion spread across Kane's face as well. _Queer_ wasn't a term that Skaikru used, but it was a term they were vaguely familiar with from history class. She replayed her conversation with Kane and Jaha - the one where they'd told her and Bellamy everything they knew about the Second Dawn and their views on same-sex relationships - and was able to determine what Cadogan was referring to. The realization made her insides boil at Cadogan's utter disdain for a group of people that she also happened to be a part of.

She saw that Kane understood as well, and for just a split-second Kane gave away the slightest hint of being flustered and angry. It was hard to detect but his skin had flushed slightly and his jaw clenched.

"I'll leave you to your chores," Cadogan concluded, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a near smirk. He then pivoted and left the kitchen.

The elder who had been with Cadogan remained inside the kitchen to speak with someone else, thus preventing Clarke and Kane from being able to speak openly. They did exchange a worried look though. Clarke wasn't fully sure how to interpret his look. Was he worried about his people in general or her specifically? She suspected both, and was touched by his concern.

And she had to admit that she, too, was worried.

* * *

"Patrolling the woods outside of Arkadia for three months was a lot more fun than this."

Miller grumbled the words to Dawson Cooper, a fellow member of Skaikru who was on work detail with him today. The two had been assigned a six-hour shift organizing one of the vast storage rooms. The room was comprised of rows and rows of shelves and boxes, each carefully labeled. The Second Dawn member who was supervising them had left them alone for now, though he had been popping in and out all morning.

"And anything is more fun than sitting through religious services every day," Dawson grumbled. He then continued wistfully, "I sure miss the outside. I'm glad my wife is an expert in hydroponics. She gets to be surrounded by plants and do work that's a lot more interesting than this, at least."

Miller grunted in reply, as he lifted another heavy box towards its destination on the top shelf. He then heard footsteps and assumed it was their supervisor, coming to check up on them again. He soon realized that the footsteps were much quieter than that of the burly supervisor though. When he turned to see who it was, he felt slightly irritated to see that it was his ex, Bryan.

The two men held each other's gazes for a tense moment.

"I'm gonna take my bathroom break," Dawson said, clearing his throat and assessing the situation. "Maybe stop by the hydrofarm and say hi to Kara too. See ya."

Dawson retreated, and Bryan approached.

"Hey, what are you up to?" Bryan asked.

"What does it look like?" Miller replied, his sarcasm in full swing. Life on the Ark had had some advantages, he realized. You were far less likely to run into an ex when you lived in a place with multiple stations and 2,200 people. This bunker was large as well, but with only 450 members of Skaikru living here, you were bound to run into some people you'd rather not see.

"I organized boxes a couple days ago," Brian said. "These people really love to keep their storage rooms in order. Thankfully I got to switch things up this morning by helping to sterilize med bay," Bryan said. A contemptuous look flashed across his face as he mentioned med bay.

Miller took in a calming breath before exhaling it. He didn't like the thought of Bryan being near Jackson. "Well that's just great. But I'm guessing you're not just here for small talk." He spoke the words as a statement, not a question.

"I'm not," Bryan answered with a simple shrug. "I just wanted to tell you that I miss you." He took a step closer to Miller.

At first, Miller was unsure how to answer. Bellamy had once complimented him on his loyalty, but Miller felt no loyalty toward _Bryan_, not now. It had been Bryan who'd been adamant, all those weeks ago, about breaking up, despite the fact that Miller had tried to get him to talk and to patch things up. Once that had failed, Miller had completely moved on. He didn't want to be mean, but he wanted to be sure he made that perfectly clear.

And besides, having a new love interest was exciting and enticing. Miller certainly had no intention of abandoning that for the man who wouldn't even speak to him five weeks ago. So he decided to be firm.

"Look, Bryan, no offense, but it's over between us. I have someone else now," Miller said, crossing his arms over his chest, wanting to make sure there was no room for misinterpretation.

"I know," Bryan said gruffly, a hint of bitterness to his tone. "I saw him when I was cleaning med bay today. Never figured you'd go for an older guy who doesn't even look strong enough to hold a gun," Bryan added, twisting his lips to the side.

"I can't say I care what you think about my boyfriend," Miller replied, forcing a shrug, though inwardly he was fuming. Apart from the fact that Bryan's comments were petty, they were also ridiculous. As a healer, Jackson was worth far more to Skaikru than almost anyone else – including every gun-toting member of the guard. But Miller wasn't about to defend his current relationship to his ex.

So he then squared his shoulders towards Bryan and narrowed his eyes. "Now beat it."

Bryan's mouth dropped open. He paused, perhaps trying to think of a reply, but then simply turned and left the room.

Miller had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. 'Did I just say "beat it" to my ex?' he asked himself. 'I gotta tell Bellamy - he'll get a kick out of that.'

* * *

Bellamy, however, was hard to get a hold of. His free time was spent with Clarke, and Miller couldn't fault him for that. Seeking someone to talk with, the next day Miller found his father and they walked down a corridor together on their way to the elder Miller's work shift in the library. Miller was bemused at the idea of his dad working in a library, given the type of work duties he'd had on the Ark as a guard.

As they continued down the hallway, the thought that had been gnawing at him since yesterday's encounter with Bryan escaped his mouth now, "Do you think we're moving too fast? Jacks and me?"

Sergeant Miller let out a laugh. "Well, I see you already have a nickname for Dr. Jackson."

"He said it was okay," Miller grinned, unable to help himself smiling from the memory.

Both men were keeping their voices low. No Second Dawn members appeared to be in the vicinity but they still took Abby's warning to heart.

"But about what I was saying," Miller continued. "We've been spending almost all of our free time together. And I like it! I mean, I love being around him. I just don't know if we're rushing things or not."

"I don't know either," Sergeant Miller answered with a tilt of his head, his brown eyes filled with an honest sort of warmth that had always had a comforting effect. "What I do know is that I like Jackson a lot and think he's good for you. But….only the two of you can decide if things are moving too fast or not. Have you sat down and discussed it with him?"

They reached the library. "We have," Miller answered, as his eyes again darted around to ensure no one else was within earshot. "He said life is short. He said we've all seen too much death. We can't take anything for granted."

"He's not wrong," the Sergeant answered with a small nod and a slightly wistful look in his eyes. He patted Miller on the shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

Miller looked down for a second and swallowed. "How- uh, tell me again how long you and mom knew each other before….before you got together?" He was hesitant to bring the subject of his mother up. It was the only topic that had always seemed off-limits.

But if the Sergeant was flustered, he didn't show it. "A long time. Since we were kids." He tilted his head up and smiled. "We each dated someone else for a while but then fortunately came to our senses in our twenties."

Miller forced a laugh. "Yeah, thank goodness. Otherwise I wouldn't be here!" His words came out stilted, but he was glad that his dad answered the question and didn't seem upset.

"She'd be proud of you," he said, with a note of finality and a far-away look in his eyes.

There was so much more, Nathan knew, to the story. His mother had died when he was only three, and Nathan had understood just the bare bones of the situation. An accident on the job. A reckless young cadet making a mistake, one that caused Miller's mother her life. A loss that Sergeant Miller had never gotten over.

"Thank you," Miller said softly, once again having to swallow.

Sergeant Miller continued to show composure. "The important thing is to keep talking about the important stuff with your partner," he said warmly. "Don't lose sight of the stuff that really matters."

* * *

"We've been here fourteen days."

"Are you going to say it feels more like fourteen years?"

"No, but I was going to wonder how long before Cadogan and his creepy group of elders go full batshit on us."

Clarke and Bellamy sat side by side, on Bellamy's bed. Clarke had just relayed the discussion with Cadogan and Kane. The one that had started out being about Emori's hand, but had quickly shifted into Cadogan accusing Skaikru of purposefully lying to him. Then throwing in veiled threats and reminders about Second Dawn's rigid opinions on the supposed immorality of same-sex attraction.

"Maybe," Bellamy began, his voice tentative, "it shows that they can be reasoned with and learn. They could have handled the Emori situation much, much worse."

Clarke sighed and shook her head. "I get why you're saying that Bellamy, but Cadogan also used the conversation as a chance to remind us that they don't tolerate…._queers_," she said. The word felt alien on her tongue.

Bellamy reached for Clarke's hand and held it.

"Don't worry about me," Clarke continued, her voice soft and soothing. "I'm sure our brilliant hosts don't even realize that someone can be attracted to people regardless of their biological sex. I'm worried about all of our people – but especially those who are attracted to just members of the same sex. Niylah. Miller and Jackson, and Bryan."

"I've never really thought about it, but I'm sure there are others," Bellamy added. And despite Clarke's words, fear and worry nipped at him. Jaha and Kane had shared that the Second Dawn leaders had despised Lexa. How would they react if they knew that Clarke had been involved with her?

"Everyone in Skaikru has been warned about the need for secrecy," Clarke said. "We've been having conversations with each person to make sure they understand – and don't accidentally give anything away about another person."

Bellamy listened to her words and again felt such admiration for her. Clarke had every reason to fear for herself, yet her concern was first and foremost for her people.

"Even that worries me," Bellamy admitted. "There are Second Dawn people everywhere. Have they seen us having these whispered conversations?"

"Probably."

Clarke and Bellamy remained quiet for a little while after that, holding hands as they remained seated on the bed. Bellamy thought about his relationship with Clarke and again marveled at the fact that she could simultaneously make him feel excited and thrilled, yet comfortable and cozy. He experienced those conflicting feelings and sensations all at once when he was with her. For the past several days, they had been together like this – sitting on his bed, sharing the events of their day, and then eventually sharing lots and lots of kisses. Sometimes the kisses were long and passionate and intense, leading to further kissing and the wandering of eager hands. Other times the kisses were soft and sweet, naturally coming to an end, and allowing them to continue talking and cuddling.

Bellamy had only ever been in one serious relationship before, with Gina. He'd approached that relationship then, as he was doing so now with Clarke. He hadn't rushed to get into bed with Gina, preferring to take their physical intimacy more slowly, wanting to be absolutely certain that she'd understood that she wasn't just some random hookup to him. He hadn't slept with Gina until **she'd** insisted upon it.

Clarke reached for Bellamy's hair, gently running her fingers through it before twirling one of his locks with her fingers. Just that simple touch made Bellamy feel like his skin was on fire.

He was unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching her. His hand settled on her hip, his thumb tracing the smooth skin where her shirt had ridden up. He heard Clarke take in a slight gasp at the contact, and he shuffled closer to her so their noses were practically touching and he could see the various shades of blue in her eyes. But still, so many worries nagged at him. What if they slept together and it ruined their budding relationship? What if Clarke felt that being with Bellamy wasn't what she imagined it would be? What if he couldn't perform and please her? And worse, what if all these things happened and he lost her? That fear was almost too much to bear.

"So, Bellamy, are we ready to ask Raven or Miller switch places with one of us for a night?" Clarke asked. Her voice had a sultry tone to it that made desire swoop low in Bellamy's stomach. It was clear what Clarke was asking and implying, and Bellamy couldn't allow his anxiety to get in the way of everything they'd both been clearly longing for quite some time now.

"I'm ready if you are," Bellamy said as confidently as he could manage, a slightly shy smile on his face as he raised a questioning eyebrow to Clarke.

"I think it's time. Let's ask them tomorrow….maybe Miller can take his things and bunk with Raven tomorrow night."

Bellamy bit back a wry smile.

"What?" Clarke asked, wondering about the near-smirk on his face.

"Miller hasn't been sleeping here the past few nights," Bellamy admitted. "I assume he's with Jackson. So then I wonder where in hell Miller's dad – who is Jackson's actual roommate – is sleeping. Like, does he sleep in the library? Or the rec room?"

Clarke chuckled, "And does Miller feel bad about kicking his poor old man out?" She paused, seeming to thoughtfully ponder the situation. "I guess Sergeant Miller would do anything for his son."

Bellamy didn't miss the brief flash of pain in Clarke's eyes and knew that she would always miss her own father. Any mention of other people's loving dads would rip the bandage off that wound, he guessed

"Yeah," he said, wishing for an easy way to steer the conversation away from absent fathers. He also took a second to reflect upon his own reasons for bringing the subject up. Had he changed the topic because he was nervous? Right now he could feel that his throat had gone dry and his heart rate was speeding up, so the answer seemed obvious. He was **nervous**.

All of the previous sexual experience Bellamy had didn't matter much, not today. He was going to be with **Clarke** and she meant the world to him. No wonder his heart was pounding and his hands were damp.

Clarke resumed toying with Bellamy's hair, as one of her thighs pressed against his side. "So you said Miller hasn't come here at all the past few nights?" Clarke asked, and Bellamy nodded, trying not to seem too eager. "We could just take a chance then tonight…." she said, letting her voice trail off suggestively.

The meaning behind's Clarkes words made Bellamy feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Whenever he was with Clarke like this, casually touching and making out, Bellamy always had to try his best to keep his own arousal in check. But now? With Clarke saying she wanted to spend the night here with him, his arousal competed with his nervousness. His body was screaming for one thing as his mind taunted him with worry. Clarke was so important to him, so…tantamount. Making love with her would change everything, and it wasn't something to be done casually.

"Pretty sure Miller won't be coming back here tonight either," Bellamy said, glancing sideways. "We could always drag the desk in front of the door just in case," he added said, with a small smirk.

Clarke pulled her hand back from stroking his hair and smiled softly at him. "Hey, Bellamy," she began, her voice quiet and subdued. "You said a minute ago you were ready. I- I guess I want to check again. You do want this, right? I mean, I'm really ready to have sex with you and I want you. Do you….?" her voice trailed off.

"Yeah," Bellamy answered. "I'm nervous but I want this. I mean, _you_. I want to be with you, Clarke."

"What are you nervous about?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and looking at him with searching blue eyes that held no trace of judgment, only genuine affection and a desire to understand.

The look was almost too much for Bellamy to handle. Clarke always saw too much and understood too much, and right now Bellamy was feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings for her. He forced himself to look away, reaching for one of her hands and twining it with his own. Finding a familiar comfort in the contact. "I just want you to know how much you mean to me. This. Us. It all means a lot to me." He swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous about how much of his honest feelings he'd admitted out loud, wondering if Clarke felt the same or if he was moving too fast.

Clarke touched her fingertips to ridge of Bellamy's cheek. They gently brushed his ear, and somehow having her fingers in such a sensitive spot made Bellamy's heart ache at how real this felt.

"It means a lot to me too," Clarke said soft and raspy, her eyes filled with a sincerity and vulnerability that Bellamy had never seen before, and left him feeling breathless. "You mean a lot to me." Clarke added, and Bellamy's heart soared at the admission. He watched with bated breath as Clarke paused, inhaling deeply before releasing. "Look, Bellamy, we both care about each other a lot. There's nothing for either of us to be nervous about."

"My head understands that, but my heart is just a little slower to catch on." He paused, staring deeply into her eyes and finding a hint of something inexplicable there that gave him a feeling of confidence that he'd been missing. His next words came out sounding more resolute. "But. It's okay. I want this Clarke. I want you."

He reached for Clarke and pulled her close, kissing her once again. Each time felt almost like the first time. Clarke's lips and tongue were soft and sweet, like delicious berries that he wanted to savor. He focused on that sensation, and felt some of his nervousness subside.

They both got caught up in the kiss, giving and taking what the other had to offer, gripping each other's clothes and running shaky fingers through wavy hair. The moment between them became more frantic and heated as their bodies sought each other out, pressing together tightly, as their kisses deepened. Eventually they were forced to pull back for some much needed air, staring into each other's eyes as they tried to catch their breaths.

"The door," Clarke panted against his lips, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes heavy-lidded and her cheeks flush. "We need to block it."

"Right." Bellamy managed to get out as his breathing evened out. "We have to set our Miller-trap."

Giggling at Bellamy's words, the couple rose from the bed and dragged the desk in front of the door. If Miller did attempt to return tonight, he no doubt would get the hint.

Clarke and Bellamy soon resumed their positions on the bed.

As Bellamy kissed Clarke, he knew he should be focusing on her reactions and on the sensations he was experiencing. But his mind again began to wander. He wondered what Clarke would be like in bed, and what type of things she'd want to do. Although he knew the idea of making comparisons was wrong, he naturally recalled his experiences with his last lover. Gina had been demure in this area, clearly preferring Bellamy to take the lead. He wondered if Clarke might be feistier and want to take charge, given their initial dynamic when they got to the ground. The idea made him start to doubt himself and worry. Women were all so different, and there was no magic solution to pleasing them all. `Ask!' he told himself. 'You need to ask!'

'You should be thinking about how good her lips feel, and how you're running your fingertips along her back. Not thinking three steps ahead.' Bellamy chastised himself. 'Damnit, does everyone else worry this much at this point? I worried about this with other girls I was with, but not this much.'

"Hey, Bellamy," Clarke began, breaking away from the kiss and searching for his eyes. "I'm gonna stand up so I can get out of my clothes."

Clarke got up, and slowly began to remove her clothing. Bellamy's eyes grew wide. They had dimmed the lighting so that the overhead lights were off and just the emergency lights around the floor were on. The brighter lights wouldn't have been romantic, but Bellamy wished right now that he could see all of Clarke better. He realized his mouth was open as he watched her remove her clothes. The sight practically made him drool, but the part of him that could still think rationally knew that was probably not something Clarke would find attractive. Moments later, he stood up to join her and take off his own clothing as well.

"You're so beautiful," Clarke murmured breathlessly, her eyes scanning up and down his naked form. He enjoyed the thought of her eyes devouring him.

"You too!" he responded, his voice coming out a little jumpy. "I should've said it earlier. I don't know why I didn't. But, uh, you're gorgeous, Clarke."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Here," she gestured for him to lie back down, before climbing on top of him and straddling his hips.

If Bellamy's heart had been racing before, it was now almost ready to burst through his chest. He was naked in bed with Clarke. She was on top of him and passionately kissing him. He was so turned on that for a few moments, he forgot to be worried and just let himself get lost in the stimulating feeling of smooth lips and hot flesh gliding against his own. Clarke was so warm and beautiful and soft, and he reveled in the feeling of her moving on top of him. Of they way they moved together, desperate and covered in a thin layer of sweat.

They pulled back from the kiss, gasping for air, and Clarke shifted up Bellamy's body, bringing her breasts closer to his mouth. Bellamy groaned and tilted his head up, sucking a perfect nipple into his mouth, and reaching up his freehand to cup and stroke the other breast. He lost himself in the taste of Clarke's skin, kissing and licking and sucking the sensitive flesh, wanting desperately to make her feel good. Bellamy heard Clarke moan above him and he felt goosebumps cover his skin at the realization that the noise was because of him. All he could think about was that he wanted more. So he increased the suction of his lips and squeezed the other breast in response, unable to stop himself from letting out a small groan as he heard her murmuring a sexy 'Just like that, Bellamy,' as he continued to lavish her breasts. She pulled back a few minutes later and Bellamy almost whimpered at the loss.

"Mmmm that was nice," Clarke whispered, shifting back down his body so she could kiss him on the lips, before trailing down his jaw and neck and stopping at his collarbones and chest. She kissed the hollow of his throat before caressing his shoulders, and pressing steamy kisses across his chest. Her fingertips followed in their wake, smoothing across his sensitive skin, before gently raking up and down his shoulders and arms, causing him to shiver.

Bellamy was so caught up in each intense sensation that he had no idea how much time had passed. He was lost to Clarke's mouth and touch. His fingers threaded carefully through her hair, and she pulled back and met his eyes.

"Are you still nervous?" Clarke asked breathlessly, and Bellamy couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked.

"A little," he admitted softly, his hands coming to rest on the tops of her thighs. Guessing she might want him to elaborate, he added, "Just the usual sort of stuff. Wanting to make sure you're enjoying it." He slid his hands up and gently gripped and stroked her hips, loving how soft they felt and how beautiful she looked atop of him as she straddled his hips.

"Oh I'm enjoying it," Clarke smiled, her voice sounding sultry and confident as she held Bellamy's gaze.

And something in the atmosphere shifted. Bellamy took in Clarke's appearance. Her normally pale skin was flushed and the look in her blue eyes could only be described as hungry. Bellamy was almost worried that his emotions and his arousal were overwhelming any cognitive abilities he had.

All thought and reason left his head when she leaned over whispered in his year, "Lick me."

Bellamy's whole body tensed up at the implication of her words. "God yes," he practically yelped out, barely able to stop his hands from shaking.

With that established, Clarke said, "Here, let me get on the bottom. It's easier that way. It's hard to eat someone out from the bottom."

"Yeah. That definitely can be a challenge," Bellamy agreed playfully. And with that, they shared a laugh, realizing that they both must have had a similar experience at one point.

Bellamy started to relax after that. It was good to be able to laugh and talk like this with Clarke. It made the moment feel more comfortable and connected, reminding him that this wasn't a test or a performance. It was a chance for them to enjoy one another and build on the intimacy they already had. It was even better that Clarke was telling him what she wanted. Her pleasure was paramount to him, and he had no words for how much he appreciated her honesty and comfort with expressing her needs.

Clarke whispered her desires in his ear, and moments later, he was flipping their positions so that he was now poised on top of her, lowering and shifting his body downwards so he could do what she asked of him. He took his time, slowly and methodically kissing his way down her body to her core. He stopped to lavish her stomach and inner thighs with appreciative kisses before finally reaching his goal.

Once he reached her wetness, Bellamy breathed in her scent before exhaling and tilting his head forward to press a kiss to the sensitive flesh. He started with soft licks and gentle strokes of his tongue. Her taste and scent were intoxicating to him, and he savored every moment of licking her. As he enjoyed the taste and scent of her sex, he listened to her breathing. He noticed she wasn't moaning, and couldn't help but wonder if he was doing something wrong. 'Is she just not a moaner, or am I not doing this the way she likes?' Bellamy again admonished himself to stop worrying and enjoy the moment. He certainly felt every sensation himself – every nerve ending of his body was somewhere between delight and an aching need for release. Just being with Clarke this way, stroking her with his tongue, being this immersed, her thighs around his head – it was almost too much for him. He was so hard. His body was almost trembling.

"Just a little higher," Clarke whispered, "and a little harder."

Bellamy obliged. He used firmer strokes on her clit. Her breathing, he noticed, picked up and now, at last, she was moaning. He kept stroking her with his tongue, humming in contentment and arousal as he felt her hips buck forward, pushing her further into his mouth. He gently started to suck, while keeping up the movements with his tongue, and Clarke's whole body started to tense up as she let out a loud moan. "Don't stop. Please don't stop," she panted and tightened her grip in his hair. He kept up the steady rhythm and movements, never letting up, and when he felt Clarke's whole body arch and jolt forward as she let out a protracted groan, he knew she had reached her peak.

Bellamy helped her come down from her high, gently licking up her arousal and savoring her essence. Clarke tapped the side of his head, signaling to him that she was done. "That's good," she breathed. "That's good."

He gently pulled away, kissing the inside of each thigh again, before tilting his head up to take in Clarke's face. It was like looking at paradise, or what Bellamy could only imagine it would be. She looked so beautiful and flushed, satiated and fully spent. He loved the pink hue of her skin and the light sheen of sweat that made her skin practically glow. As much as his body was begging for and demanding release, he just had to take a moment to admire her.

"Okay," Clarke murmured. "You want to go inside me?"

He nodded. "Do you want to get on top?" He thought she might prefer to control the speed and depth of the penetration.

"We're here now, you could just get on top of me," Clarke said.

"Would you like that?" Bellamy asked, his heart racing when Clarke bit her bottom lip and gave him a small nod.

Bellamy tried not to be too eager as he followed her instructions, positioning himself on top of her, before lowering himself down. Now this, well this was a new level of heaven. Clarke gripped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Her hands slipping down his shoulders, and back before settling on his hips. He pulled back to look in her eyes as he slowly and carefully entered her, taking in the satisfied expressions on her face as he gently began to thrust. The pleasure Bellamy felt from being inside of her was so intense. She was so wet and hot, and the way she was stroking the back of his head with one hand as the other was traveling lower to grip his ass, made him let out a loud groan and speed up his movements. He noticed that the bed springs were creaking.

"That was really nice," Clarke whispered in his ear as he continued to thrust. "What you did with your tongue. I really liked it."

"I-I did too. A-a lot."

"I came really hard. Was I too loud? I think half the bunker must've heard me. You're good, Bellamy. You're really really good." She continued to grasp and stroke his back.

Bellamy meant to reply that he would do that to her again, anytime. But speech was beyond him. Moving on top of her, he was dimly aware that he was moaning and grunting senselessly and the bed springs continued to creak. Her words, combined with the rhythm of their bodies, were driving him over the edge. She breathlessly encouraged him to move faster. After not long, he reached an intense release.

Later, they remained curled together in the bed. Bellamy didn't want to leave. The warmth of her body against his, under the sheets together, made him feel a new type of contentment. `She is my heart,' Bellamy said to himself. `But no, it's too soon to talk about love.'

'Or is it?'

He wasn't sure, but as he drifted off to sleep, he hoped Clarke would stay there in the bed with him all night. When he woke a few hours later, his heart nearly sang. She was still right there with him, their limbs entwined.

Unbeknownst to Bellamy and Clarke, at one point Miller had tried to enter the room to obtain clean clothing. But he'd taken the hint when the door had been obstructed by the desk which Bellamy and Clarke had had the foresight to place there. And yes, indeed, his dad had been sleeping in the library so he and Jackson could have all the space they needed.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five – Three Weeks Since Moving to the Bunker**

Mornings inside the bunker started with religious services at 0700 hours, then breakfast afterwards. The services were held inside what they called the great hall – a large room with rows and rows of pews, an altar at the front, and each wall decorated with paintings and tapestries depicting key moments in the Second Dawn's religion. As Clarke sat next to Abby on the wooden pew, she tried to tune out the preacher – who was one of the elders - and mentally fight off the boredom. She noticed her stomach grumbling and had to marvel at how quickly her body had adapted to the luxury of eating three meals per day. Her system was already anticipating breakfast.

Kane sat on Abby's other side in the pew, and Clarke noticed that the two of them were holding hands. She was glad to finally see her mother happy after all this time. Other than the fact that Abby was constantly worried about Clarke, she knew that overall her mother was glad to be out of the mortal danger that the world outside of this bunker constantly seemed to throw at them. In here, there was no death wave, no ALIE, no Pike, no wars with the Grounders. There was, however, a clean and well-stocked med bay where Abby could practice medicine. Though Clarke had no doubt that her mother wished Dr. Jones would just disappear so she could run it herself.

Bellamy sat on Clarke's other side, with Octavia next to him. Clarke glanced at her lover and had to stifle a giggle. He was clearly as bored as she was listening to the elder ramble on. Unfortunately Bellamy had been assigned to breakfast-prep today, so along with the others who had the same assignment, he would have to head right for the kitchen immediately after the service was over so he could get to work. Breakfast was promptly served 45 minutes after the conclusion of services, and the Second Dawn elders did not like to wait.

Looking at Bellamy, of course, sent Clarke's thoughts off in another direction. She was mildly aware of the fat that this was probably not the optimal time to replay one of their lovemaking sessions….but damn. She adored every minute of it and wanted to start counting down the hours until they would be together again. Her own work shift wasn't until the afternoon, so maybe they'd be able to find some time to "connect" between their shifts. Clarke shuffled slightly in her seat. This really was not the best time to be getting aroused.

And now Bellamy – was he reading her mind? – reached for her hand and held it. Clarke turned her head and locked eyes with him. Looking at him was always so intense, especially because of the way he made her heart pound. She had told him yesterday how glad she was that – when they'd first gotten together – he'd brought up the subject of not wanting this to be a meaningless hookup. It had echoed her own thoughts and feelings at the time, and had given her instant comfort and relief.

It felt good to be on the same page as your lover.

At long last, the religious service was over, and people stood up to leave. The folks on breakfast-prep had to make haste to get to the kitchen. "Gotta go," Bellamy said quietly, reaching for Clarke and kissing her. Clarke gladly returned the kiss, reveling in the way that even just the slight contact of Bellamy's lips against her own gave her the most pleasant jolt between her thighs.

Bellamy departed, and out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Miller and Jackson. They had been sitting in the pew behind hers, along with Miller's dad. Apparently Miller was on breakfast-prep as well. Clarke watched as Miller said goodbye to his lover though he wisely omitted a parting kiss. They two men had to settle for a look instead. Though if anyone other than Clarke had been looking, they could have easily seen the affection that both men had for each other, from the way their eyes sparkled.

Moments later, Clarke sat with her mother in the library. People often congregated there before meals as it was furnished with many comfortable sofas, chairs, and coffee tables amidst the shelves of books. It was a large space with many nooks and crannies, but like most of the bunker, it still managed to have a warm and inviting feel to it.

"How did I get so used to having tea every day?" Abby asked, rubbing her temples. "My system is already anticipating the caffeine."

"I was wondering the same thing during church," Clarke answered. "I'm already used to three meals a day. And things like this comfortable sofa we're sitting on now."

Abby leaned towards Clarke, gently bumping their shoulders and giving her a knowing smile. "I'm glad you're with Bellamy. He's a good man."

Clarke nodded. Was there any society or culture where it didn't feel weird to discuss your love life with your parent? Yet she had been neglecting almost everyone other than Bellamy during the past few days, so Clarke knew she owed her mother some time.

"And," Abby continued, dropping her voice lower, "given the attitudes here, it's good that you're with a man."

Clarke made a face. "You're right, but you know that totally sucks. I'd feel the same about Bellamy if he was a woman."

"I know. But keep your voice down," Abby admonished. She took a quick look around. No Second Dawn people were within earshot, as far as she could tell. Monty, Harper, and Jasper stood nearby talking, and Jaha sat on a leather chair, paging through a book. Still, the Second Dawn people were always in the background, the women quiet in their dull dresses, the men somehow just so much more assured than the women - as could be observed in everything from their posture to the way they walked. Most of the women sat in silence and did needlepoint or mended clothing as they waited for breakfast. The men now were either talking in small groups, reading, or playing games.

"Their attitudes are wrong," Abby continued, quietly, "but I am grateful to them too. They opened their doors to us when we had no other options. They share their space and food with us, and they work right alongside us during our daily work shifts." It was true. Other than Cadogan and the handful of other leaders, members of the Second Dawn usually did 'grunt work' side by side with Skaikru. "They didn't have to let us in." Abby added, bringing Clarke's focus back to her.

"We've already more than paid it back with all the advances we taught them in medicine, engineering, and hydroponics," Clarke replied flatly, feelings of indignation simmering in her chest.

Abby cut in, "And Kane finds subtle ways to remind them of that, don't worry." Admiration was clearly in her voice. Kane, in fact, was currently standing near a bookcase, talking with one of Cadogan's fellow elders.

"But yes, you're right too," Clarke said. "They didn't have to take us in. We just have to remember that we gave a lot to them too." Clarke took a look around the room and then let out a breath. "Bellamy and I were discussing something with Raven yesterday. There have to be some other reasons why Cadogan agreed to take us in. There are only 312 Second Dawn people living here. They've got to want to expand their gene pool. Back when I first got to Mount Weather, I'd wondered if they wanted the same thing. It seems only natural in a situation like this."

Of course, Clarke had reminded herself, most of Skaikru still had their contraceptive implants in. It would be years before the implants began to lose their effectiveness. There had been no reason to share that information with the Second Dawn though. In any case, Clarke was glad that Raven and Monty were still spending time each day learning the Second Dawn's systems.

"I agree," Abby nodded. "I think that has to be part of it. Right now our two groups are like oil and water, but things change over time. We were just starting to blend well with the grounders when the death wave hit. Well, not all of us, but Kane was close to Indra. And you…"

"Lexa," Clarke said quietly, finishing Abby's sentence for her. She looked down at her hands and shook her head. "Not long ago I was in Polis with Lexa. Now…." Clarke kept looking downwards. She didn't want to continue this line of discussion. Loss was just something they all had to deal with on a seemingly regular basis, leaving hollow and frozen places inside each of their hearts. Clarke felt a glimmer of warmth in spite of all that. After seeing Lexa in the City of Light, she felt at peace knowing that Lexa had loved her and would want her to be happy now.

And she was happy with Bellamy.

* * *

Octavia was on Bellamy's breakfast-prep shift that day too. They worked side by side, getting the silverware, plates, and napkins in position. Octavia nearly slammed the items down; Bellamy hoped she wouldn't break a plate again.

"I had a dream last night," Bellamy began. "I hardly knew her, but I dreamt of Maya. I dreamt that she told me she forgave me." He paused. "I was pretty shaken up when I woke up."

"You tell Jasper?" Octavia shot back.

Bellamy knew Octavia would remain angry for a long time. She'd never gotten over Lincoln's death, though fortunately she no longer seemed to blame him for it. But now Octavia had the death of Indra, and almost every other grounder on the planet, to deal with – and once again she was living among people who she didn't view as her people, whom she blamed for the death of the people she loved. Bellamy knew it was selfish, but he was just glad she didn't blame him for this decision too. He understood her rage, and continued with his tactic of spending time with her, even though she rarely wanted to talk and didn't seem to enjoy his presence.

"I didn't." Bellamy answered, knowing that the question was rhetorical, but unwilling to give up a chance to talk to his sister when she was finally giving him a small in like this. "I know Jasper's still struggling with what happened. Just as we all are."

"Are we?" Octavia asked, stopping in mid-motion to look him in the eye. "You and Clarke look happy together. I guess Gina is gone and forgotten. Clearly you've moved on."

`Well, she was blown up by some of those grounders you so loved,' he wanted to reply, but bit his lip. Instead he said, "She may be gone but no, I will never forget her. But I feel like she'd want me to be happy."

"So great, you feel dead Gina wants you to be happy and now dead Maya is forgiving you in your dreams. Glad life is going well for you, brother."

Bellamy took a breath, wondering at what point his patience for his sister would evaporate. "I'm sorry it's not going better for you, O," he said softly, taking a step closer to her. He placed a hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off.

Someone on the other end of the cafeteria dropped a tray. Frowning, Octavia said, "Better get back to work," and walked away.

* * *

Later that day, Clarke found Niylah in the rec room. She was sitting on a chair by herself, with a wooden object in her hands. It appeared to be some sort of puzzle or game that required the user to move the pieces around to create a shape. Glancing at its intricate carvings, Clarke realized it must have been something that Niylah had brought with her.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Clarke said, approaching Niylah. "Is it okay if I sit here?"

"Of course," Niylah said, mustering up a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry for not talking to you very much since we got here. It's been such a whirlwind."

"I understand," Niylah said softly. "The fear and panic of Praimfaya approaching. Settling in here. Getting used to the ways of the Second Dawn members. And…of course your new relationship with Bellamy."

"Yeah," Clarke acknowledged with a nod.

Niylah reached to touch her hand. "I'm happy for you. He's good for you."

Clarke slowly withdrew her hand and looked around the room. The rec room was a large, open space with several nooks for different activities. Two young Second Dawn males played a game of ping pong nearby. Three older Second Dawn women sat in a circle, sewing. Further away, a group of Second Dawn males appeared to be reading or studying a religious book together, and Jaha was with them. Various members of Skaikru inhabited the rec room as well: a group of five worked on a jigsaw puzzle, a woman was doing some woodworking, and at the other end of the room a group of Skaikru was lifting weights. Jasper sat in a corner listening to music, tapping his foot and staring at the wall.

"Sorry," Clarke whispered, knowing that it looked like a rebuke when she'd withdrawn her hand. "The people here have some beliefs-"

"I know," Niylah whispered back. "I was warned about it." She looked down. "I guess I just forgot for a second. It's hard for me to get used to a world where I can't touch a friend's hand in support lest someone misinterpret it."

Clarke nodded. "I-I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm grateful to be alive. Your people saved me when they didn't have to. I know I have mostly you to thank for that."

Clarke continued to look at Niylah. She remained quiet, hoping to inspire the grounder to open up even more.

"I do miss the outside," Niylah continued. "It's hard to accept that it's all gone. Even when we leave here in five years, it will be nothing like it used to be outside." She paused. "But I am doing okay. Octavia and I are becoming good friends. Jackson started training me to be a nurse. It's good to feel useful and to do something more than cleaning bathrooms and the kitchen."

"I'm glad to hear that," Clarke said, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "And-and thank you for being happy for Bellamy and me. That means a lot."

Niylah smiled back and nodded, and they held each other's gazes for a quiet moment.

Clarke felt the anxiety returning to her chest and swallowed. "If you do meet someone…."

"I know," Niylah said, dropping her voice even lower. "If I do, we will need to be very discrete. " She paused. "There's no one now though, so perhaps it won't be an issue. It's only five years."

"We are working on some options," Clarke said reassuringly. "Raven, Monty, Bellamy, and me. Nothing too promising yet, but we'll keep looking. No one really wants to spend five years here if there are other options." Clarke mentally corrected herself. '_Four years, eleven months, and one week. How is the time crawling by so slowly?'_

Except, of course, her moments with Bellamy. Those were always the highlight of every day.

* * *

"You know that I can tell when you're in a bad mood, right?" Abby asked the rhetorical question to Jackson. She had arrived in med bay to relieve him from his shift, and the two were going over patient charts. Jackson's facial expressions never gave too much away, but Abby had worked alongside him for many years.

Jackson frowned and mumbled, "I'm fine." He pressed a few buttons on the device he held and said, "Our next patient is a 12 year old boy by the name of Jeremy. We need to talk about him."

Abby gently moved the device aside. "We need to talk about you first, or did you forget that **not **talking about your emotional state is what got you chipped by ALIE? And," she added, her voice dropping to a whisper, "you have a boyfriend now, so you do need to get into the habit of occasionally sharing what's on your mind." She refrained from adding that her own partner, Kane, could do a better job in this area since Jackson didn't need to know that.

Jackson shook his head and let out a small laugh, admitting defeat. "You would've made a good psychologist."

Abby gestured to the alcove where med bay's desks and chairs were located, and Jackson wordlessly followed her. They each took a seat. Med bay was, as usual, not busy when compared to med bay on the Ark. Dr. Jones appeared less and less frequently, apparently preferring to leave med bay in the hands of Abby and Jackson. The less Dr. Jones was around, the better, in Abby's mind. She wished he would retire soon. Niylah, however, was currently in med bay and her training as a nurse continued to progress.

"Well?" Abby began, facing Jackson.

"It's been a bad day," Jackson admitted, shaking his head. He went on to describe what had happened. Twelve-year-old Jeremy had been brought to med bay by his mother. He had a concussion and multiple wounds on his body. This was not the first time Jackson and Abby had seen children who had been beaten, and as usual the parent or parents accompanying the child had been tight-lipped and evasive, making up obvious excuses such as the perennial "he fell down".

"Damn these people," Abby muttered, fists clenched. "Jaha told us what his research had found. The original Cadogan, Bill, had been beaten daily by his father. That sort of abuse just keeps getting passed down unless it is addressed and stopped."

"Right. And I don't know how many more times I can look at kids who are clearly being abused without saying or doing something," Jackson said, his voice trembling.

Abby patted his thigh. "I will talk to Kane. And Clarke. Maybe they will have some ideas," she said resolutely.

"Please do it. We have to try. I know that we're guests in their bunker, but we can't turn a blind eye to child abuse."

"I will see what I can do." Abby took a breath. "What else? I'm guessing something else is bothering you."

"You can read minds now?" Jackson asked, his brows knit.

Abby looked sideways, again ensuring they weren't within earshot of any of the nurses other than Niylah. "Well, I did see Bryan leaving here just as I walked in. So I wonder if maybe it felt strange for you to interact with your boyfriend's ex."

"It feels bizarre," Jackson confirmed, touching a hand to his forehead. "Nate has told me that Bryan wants him back. He also told me that for most of their relationship, Bryan was a sane, rational person. But…well, I can't say I like any of the interactions I've had with him. He seems somewhere between jealous and angry. Maybe being cooped up in here isn't helping him." He took a breath. "But I don't get it. Nate told me that he gave Bryan plenty of chances to get back together with him, but Bryan had been the one who refused to talk. It doesn't make any sense."

"You know, loss can be a powerful and strange thing. Maybe it's taken some time for things to sink in for Bryan," Abby said, leaning closer. "And he's only now realizing what he's lost."

"Yeah," Jackson nodded his agreement. "I just wish Bryan would stay away honestly. I'm not even sure what his purpose was for coming to med bay just now."

"You know what my advice is going to be, don't you?"

"I know," Jackson said. "Talk to Nathan about it. I will."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six – Four Weeks Since Moving to the bunker**

Miller sat on the hard, wooden pew during the regularly scheduled morning service inside the great hall, mulling over his life circumstances. The elder conducting the service rambled on to the hundreds assembled. It was still worth the trade-off, Miller decided. Daily services and a stultifying daily work schedule left his brain feeling numb, but in return he got three daily meals and a place to live that was protected from the effects of the death wave. Sometimes he wondered what would've happened to himself and the people he loved during the death wave had the Second Dawn not decided to allow Skaikru in.

His mind roamed freely as he tuned out the elder. Would Skaikru just have sat in Arkadia's bar, drinking the last of Monty's moonshine, waiting to burn? Miller would've sat next to his dad – and Jackson, if they'd been a couple. ('Do people start relationships when a fiery death is all but certain?', he wondered. 'Well, yeah, with Jackson I still would have.') A more grim thought passed through his mind. Would Abby and Jackson have been administering fatal drugs to anyone who didn't want to die in the death wave? Drugs surely had to be more palatable than fire.

Today during the service, Miller sat at his usual spot, next to his dad. Jackson had been excused today because a woman was in labor and he was needed in med bay. "She specifically requested me," Jackson had told Miller that morning. His voice had been full of wonder, not pride. "I happened to be there the last two times she came in for check-ups. She said she really liked my manner and wanted me to deliver her baby." Miller had replied that it was good to see Jackson so happy, and of course he had meant it.

Miller suddenly noticed the mood shifting, and some murmuring among Skaikru. He looked at his father. Sergeant Miller returned the look, put a finger to his lips, and seemed to be straining to listen to the elder's words as he preached to the group. Miller leaned forward. It took him some time to understand what the preacher was railing about. He kept using a word that Miller was unfamiliar with, but eventually his meaning dawned on him as it gradually had been doing so for the rest of his people. _Homosexuality_. 'Oh yeah,' Miller said to himself. 'That's their word for people like me.'

Jackson had broken it down for him one day. Apparently the prefix 'homo' meant 'same', and, well, the rest of the word was pretty clear. And today the elder was preaching against the people who fell into that category. `Right,' Miller thought. 'I've gone from being a human being to a sort of subspecies.'

It wasn't the first time that Miller felt there as something bad or just plain _wrong _about himself. Back on the Ark, plenty of people had stolen medical supplies or food. Miller had stolen stupid, little things for no reason. Some of it had been various trinkets or gadgets for Bryan, but most of the items themselves had since faded from Miller's memory. He hadn't cared care what most of the stuff was; he'd just done it for the thrill.

Miller gulped as he replayed the memories that followed once he'd been caught. His father's acute disappointment – not to mention fear for Nathan's life. The look on his father's face the first time he saw Nate inside the Sky Box - it made his stomach sink whenever he thought of it. Sergeant Miller had asked him why he'd done it, and Nate hadn't even been able to come up with a good reason. He knew it had something to do with losing his mother and the fact that the topic had always been off-limits, but how could he say that to his dad? Sergeant Miller was endlessly kind, patient, and loving, so Nate couldn't very well tell him how much his mother's loss still stung him and how much he wished they could discuss it someday. In fact, almost everyone had lost one or both parents. 'Doesn't matter how much it still hurts, I can't go all woe-is-me about it,' Miller told himself.

This thoughts continued on their train ride. 'Aren't I still the same fuck-up nowadays?' Miller asked himself. 'Your boyfriend has told you that he likes lots of kisses, but you still rush through it because you want to get to more of the good stuff – you want to get off. And your old man is sleeping on a sofa inside the library so you can be with your boyfriend.' As the Second Dawn elder continued his speech against "homosexuality", Miller let the shame eat away at him. It almost felt good, in a perverse sort of way.

He glanced around the room. It was hard to tell how the rest of Skaikru was absorbing the message, especially since the layout of the rows of pews only allowed him to see the backs of most people's heads. But Miller observed many of those heads turning and the amount of whispering had definitely picked up ever since the elder had begun his rant against "homosexuals". But otherwise Skaikru did what they always did during religious services: sat quietly and respectfully, cognizant of the fact that they were guests in the Second Dawn's home. Very aware of the fact that they would be dead if it hadn't been for the mercy of Cadogan and Second Dawn.

The elder eventually moved on to another topic, and not long after that, service was – thankfully - over for the day. Although he normally left the great hall right after the service, Miller sat frozen in his pew. His father touched his shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. "If anyone ever hurts you son, I'll kill them. You know that, right?" the Sergeant said in a low voice.

Miller wanted to exclaim 'Dad!' because his father was a gentle man who hated violence, despite his profession. But he knew this was his way of showing support, and Miller appreciated the gesture. He glanced up and saw Monty and Harper walking down the aisle, no doubt heading towards the rec room to wait for breakfast. He exchanged a brief look with them, and for a second didn't know how to interpret their facial expressions. Then he realized what the looks on their faces had signified. _Pity._

* * *

After the sermon and breakfast, Miller gathered a tray of food for Jackson and went to med bay. He found Jackson almost glowing with happiness.

"We have a healthy mother and baby," Jackson reported, glancing in the direction of the room where the childbirth had taken place. "A girl. Seven pounds and three ounces."

Miller smiled as he heard the news, though he also felt a pang of something else. `Will I ever have a job that is that fulfilling, that gives me **that **look on my face?' he wondered. `Scrubbing toilets and dusting shelves isn't really doing it for me.' He put those thoughts aside, wanting to share in Jackson's happiness.

"They're lucky they had such a great doctor," Miller grinned.

At that moment, the door of the new mother's room opened and a man strode out. He seemed to grumble to himself as he left med bay, and Jackson frowned as he watched the man go.

"What?" Miller asked quietly, seeing Jackson's unhappy look.

Jackson took a step closer to Miller. "The new father. He was disappointed that the baby wasn't a boy," he said softly, shaking his head. "I try to understand people, but I just can't understand that."

"Yeah. Me neither. Back on the Ark, half of the people there would've given their right arm for a healthy baby." He looked down at the tray he held. "Here. You need to take a break, and I brought your breakfast to you."

Med bay had an alcove with a desk and chairs, and the two men then sat there as Jackson ate. Miller looked around the room. As with any given moment in med bay, a few nurses walked around, carrying on with their business but none appeared to be within earshot.

"I have to tell you what happened at services today," Miller began, leaning in. He described the sermon and Skaikru's reactions. "Breakfast was weird," he added. "Everyone sitting at my table was extra nice to me. I guess that's better than people treating us like we got the plague," he added, wryly.

Jackson had been quiet as he'd listened, and he hadn't touched too much of the food. Miller observed him. "So, uh, anyway that was a lot of words," Miller concluded. "What- what are you thinking about?"

"Too many things," Jackson responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I guess mostly that I'm so happy to have you in my life. And that I'm so afraid." He paused and swallowed. "Afraid in a different kind of way than I've ever been afraid before." He broke off there; he didn't need to say more.

Miller watched him intently as he spoke. He then glanced around the room again. "Can we go somewhere in private?" he asked quietly.

Jackson opened his mouth, ready to politely decline since he was on duty, and his duty had to remain at the forefront always. But something about the way his boyfriend looked just now – vulnerable for once, and somehow sweet – made him reconsider.

"I can step out for a little."

"Let's go to my room. I think Bellamy's working now," Miller said.

As soon as Miller pulled the door to his quarters closed, Jackson got ready for the kiss. Miller's kisses were usually rapid, insistent, and almost brusque since they were a prelude to what was coming next. Jackson was generally as eager for sex as the next man, but he had been trying to subtly teach Miller a bit about finesse. 'He's younger' Jackson would say to himself. 'Just give him time.'

Today, however, Miller's kisses were slow and even somewhat soft. And his hands remained in place, one on the back of Jackson's head and the other on his arm. They weren't frenetically roaming about his body or tugging at clothing. Miller just concentrated on Jackson's lips and tongue.

"Damn. This is great," Jackson broke away, panting.

"It is," Miller agreed, smiling. "I learned a lot from you." He pulled Jackson in for another kiss.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Bellamy walked in. Awkward apologies were muttered, and then Jackson said, "I really am due back in med bay." After Jackson had left, Miller pretended to glare at Bellamy and sarcastically muttered, "Thanks for the bucket of cold water on my groin, Bellamy."

Bellamy gave it right back to him with a grin, "This is my room too, you know."

* * *

A few days later, Miller made a request to Bellamy and Clarke as the three stood outside of Bellamy and Miller's room.

"Do you mind if I sleep here tonight? My dad's back hurts and we think if he slept on a real bed occasionally, instead of a sofa in the library, that it would help."

Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a look and a smile. "I guess I can fall asleep without you for once," Clarke said, reaching to touch one of Bellamy's locks. She twirled it in her fingers. He smiled back at her, his eyes almost glowing, as he reached for her other hand and kissed it.

Miller observed them and felt a stab of envy. He and Jackson would never be able to make any of those gestures in public here. Simple things like playing with your partner's hair or kissing their hand….for Miller and Jackson, those gestures were relegated to their quarters, and their quarters only.

"We'll manage it," Bellamy said, finally turning towards Miller and feigning frustration. "For the sake of Sergeant Miller's back!"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?" Miller quipped. Clarke and Bellamy continued to just gaze at each other, almost oblivious to Miller's words.

Not long afterwards, Bellamy and Miller turned in for the night, settling into their bunk beds and turning off the lights.

"Hey, Bellamy," Miller whispered. "Are you asleep?"

Bellamy decided that Miller wasn't the only one capable of sarcasm. "Given that we just turned off the lights five seconds ago, I'd say no."

"Well you never know. Some people fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. Jackson's like that."

"You know, I'm happy for you," Bellamy said, sounding more like himself, the sarcasm gone. "He's a good guy."

"Yeah. But let's talk about you. You and Clarke….you look happy together. It's crazy that we both found love inside this bunker."

"Crazy's the right word for it. I mean, some of the attitudes of our hosts. That sermon the other day—"

There was no need for Bellamy to specify which sermon. It had been the talk – the _whispered _talk - of Skaikru.

But Miller cut him off. "Yeah, well I'm over it."

"Just," Bellamy began, his voice tentative, "….be careful."

"We are. Don't worry." Miller's voice took on a lighter tone. "Want to hear something funny? When my dad told us that his back was bothering him, Jackson offered to give him a massage. My dad and I burst out laughing. Jackson's all like 'What's so funny? A massage is therapeutic, not sexual, it can help bad backs!' And he was just getting all exasperated with us because my dad and I were cracking up. I was all like 'Jacks, you don't offer to give your** boyfriend's dad** a massage – no matter how bad his back is!' That man is such a doctor that he forgets normal stuff like this."

Bellamy chuckled at the anecdote, making Miller feel pleased that his story had done its job.

"Thanks for that," Bellamy said his voice somber. "I needed a good laugh. You know, as happy as Clarke and I are to be together, we also worry every single day that we're here."

"Yeah, well, come on – we've had plenty of reasons to be worried every day since we got tossed out of the Ark and fell to the ground in the dropship. Hell, we had reasons to worry every day before that too." Miller kept his tone flippant.

"Right. But this is different. The Second Dawn people have some strange rules. What if things come to a head?"

"Well, you said Clarke and Raven and everyone are getting some ideas together, right?"

Bellamy paused for a moment before replying. He wasn't sure if he was a bit exasperated by Miller's desire to downplay the situation they were in, or if he should respect Miller's apparent desire to not worry tonight. He reminded himself to be patient. Not everyone aspired to be a leader or would make a great strategist. Bellamy admired Clarke for those qualities since, he knew, so few had the ability to plan ahead and make difficult decisions.

"We are," Bellamy answered.

"Can we…can we fight them if we have to?" Miller asked, finally sounding appropriately subdued.

"We want to avoid that. Clarke and Raven and I are thinking through all the pros and cons from a strategic standpoint. There are more of us than there are of them, overall we're better fighters, especially since none of their women have ever trained for combat – unless they are doing a great job of hiding that. But on the 'con' side, remember we weren't allowed to bring any weapons here."

"Do _they_ have weapons?"

"Probably. Clarke and Raven's work investigating the place seems to indicate there are hidden rooms. So yeah, we gotta assume they have advantages or stuff we don't have." He took a breath. "We want to avoid a fight for other reasons too. The 750 people living here are all that's left of the human race."

"Kinda blows your mind, doesn't it?" Miller mused. "Up on the Ark we thought we were all that's left of the human race. Then we get to the ground and find out there are tons and tons of people who survived. Then we blink, and a death wave hits, and wipes out everyone. Far as we know, anyway."

"It does sometimes feel like life's a cruel joke sometimes."

"Well," Miller piped up, trying to brighten the mood, "except for the part where we each having someone to love. You have Clarke, and I've got Jackson."

"Yeah." Bellamy was quiet after that. He and Clarke had love, yes. But they had also _lost_ people they loved. Gina. Lexa. The pain of their losses would never simply evaporate.

* * *

Several nights later, Bellamy woke up screaming. Clarke was with him this time and was jolted out of her sleep.

"What-what?" she asked, bolting upright. "Bellamy, are you okay?" Clarke's system began to buzz into alertness, worried about her boyfriend.

Bellamy sat up, shaking and panting. Clarke pulled him into an embrace. "You're sweating. Are you okay?" she repeated.

"Just a bad dream," he managed, his voice shaky and raw from so much screaming. He leaned into Clarke and returned the embrace, his body finally seeming to relax against hers.

"Let me get you a glass of water," she offered.

"No," he said gruffly, holding her a bit more tightly. "Please. Just stay here."

"Of course."

The two remained quiet for several moments, their arms locked around each other's. Clarke mused that this might be the best thing about their relationship, the fact that neither felt the need to talk or explain. They could simply exist together. She would ask him if he wanted to talk about it, of course, and she would accept whatever his answer would be. She loved the feeling of his warm body against hers, knowing that she was providing him an anchor.

"Had plenty of nightmares before," Bellamy finally whispered. "It's not like this is new. I had one soon after we first landed on earth. I woke up screaming and I accidentally kicked R-Roma." He stumbled on the girl's name because he couldn't remember if it had been Roma or Bree. Or another.

"I bet she loved that," Clarke said.

"Oh yeah," Bellamy smiled, and Clarke was glad that her sarcastic comment seemed to help brighten his mood.

"Do you want to talk about the nightmare?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah." He took a breath, continuing to hold Clarke tightly, and spoke. "I was back at scene where we massacred the grounder army. I was there, but suddenly Indra was in front of me, telling me she'd never forgive me for leaving her people to die in Praimfaya. My dream kept switching back and forth between the two. The two times and places. D-do you ever get nightmares like this?"

Clarke rubbed his back. "I do. I don't know that I've ever woken up screaming but yeah. You know the nights where I stay up late drawing or reading? Sometimes it's because I know when I fall asleep, I'm either going to be seeing images of my dad getting floated or Lexa getting shot. Hell, we each have a whole catalog to choose from. We could make lists if we wanted."

Clarke spoke the last sentence with a rueful laugh and Bellamy shared it. She hoped that her rubbing of his back was helping bring him a feeling of calm.

"Yeah. Pick and choose what we want tonight's nightmare to be about." He relaxed his grip on her a bit and looked around their room- the dark humor was gone from his voice. "And then there's this place. We're safe from the radiation, no one's throwing spears at us, and we have more food than we've ever had before. But…."

Bellamy let his voice trail off, and Clarke just nodded and pulled him close again. "This place," she finally said, her voice flat. "Will it be our saving grace or our doom?"

They continued to sit together, just breathing and holding each other close. Clarke realized how good it was to just be able to share a room with him so they could be there for each other during moments like this. She liked having her own space too, but they had plenty of time to be apart during the day as they almost never ended up on the same work shift. Clarke liked ending the day with him, in the private sanctuary of his room.

As she liked to think a few steps ahead, she wondered about how she and Bellamy might be able to become full-time roommates. She mentally reviewed their situation. Second Dawn members only allowed opposite-sex roommates if they were married. Most nights, Bellamy's "official" roommate Miller bunked with Jackson, leaving poor Sergeant Miller to sleep on a sofa in the library. That just couldn't work forever and it wasn't fair to Miller's kind father anyway; both couples felt guilty about it, as Bellamy and Miller had rehashed many times. The Sergeant had apparently found a secluded corner of the library to sleep in. Twice he reported that he'd been discovered in the morning by Second Dawn members, and his tactic both times had been to apologize and say he'd drifted off while reading a good book. Wisely, he'd even had the foresight to place a book on the floor next to the sofa. For all their faults, the Second Dawn members seemed to respect age so perhaps that had allowed both incidents to slide by without further question.

Clarke's official roommate was Raven, and she knew that Raven enjoyed the fact that she usually ended up having the room to herself. But maybe she could talk to Raven, and ask if she'd be okay having the Sergeant be her "unofficial" roommate. Clarke shook her head; that wasn't fair to Raven though. Raven would find either a partner or a hookup of her own, sooner or later. Clarke resolved to get her hands on Skaikru's roster in the morning and take another look at the group's rooming situation. She wanted to be able to stay the night with Bellamy while not feeling guilty over the Sergeant's situation. There had to be a way for everyone to win this game of musical chairs. Or, she corrected herself with a smile, musical _beds_.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Clarke whispered after some time. She and Bellamy loosened their grip on each other, and he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She didn't need to ask – and he didn't need to say – what the gratitude was for. Just having someone hear you and comfort you when you needed it provided a special kind of peace. It made the next day tolerable or even more than tolerable.

Clarke reached for her shoes so that she wouldn't have to walk down the corridor in her socks. Later, upon exiting the bathroom, she took a few steps back down the hallway. Her mother's room was a few paces ahead. She blinked and took another look. A strip of light under the door indicated that the light was on. Clarke stepped towards it and knocked gently. "It's Clarke," she whispered.

Abby opened the door and Clarke stepped through. As a "married" couple, Abby and Kane had a room of their own, and a wider bed than the one Clarke and Bellamy crammed themselves into. Clarke blinked, taking just a second to adjust. How could seeing Kane in her father's place be simultaneously acceptable and an affront? It was, Clarke decided, just another contradiction in life she'd need to file away.

In any case, she was inexplicably grateful that Abby and Kane were dressed in their "daytime" clothing and not sleepwear. Seeing Kane in pajamas would just not have been okay, Clarke decided!

"I'm guessing something happened?" Clarke asked, glancing from her mother's face to Kane's.

"It did," Abby answered, gesturing for Clarke to sit on the chair. "Kane just got back from a meeting with Cadogan and his son Andrew."

"They caught Jasper making moonshine," Kane continued.

Clarke nodded. She mentally reviewed the facts. Jasper was clearly still traumatized by the events at Mount Weather. Monty and some of the other delinquents who'd escaped the clutches of the Mountain Men continued reaching out to try to help him, though he'd been mostly unresponsive. Clarke also added in the fact that making prohibited alcohol was not necessarily unheard-of behavior for any given teenager, traumatized or not.

But the Second Dawn and their rules upped the stakes on everything. And Jasper likely just didn't care about the ramifications of his actions.

"I'm guessing a long discussion with Cadogan followed," Clarke said.

"Yes," Kane said. "Their immediate response was to want to put Jasper in prison."

"You mean the prison they initially they didn't even tell us that had, but we guessed existed, among their hidden rooms?" Clarke added. Just as when she'd been taken to Mount Weather, Clarke had worked on scoping out the Second Dawn bunker. Based on that and the blueprints that Raven had gotten her hands on, Clarke and the other Skaikru leaders realized that the bunker had hidden rooms. They'd also speculated that prisons could indeed be among those secret rooms.

"I pleaded Jasper's case," Kane continued, folding his arms. "I reminded them that he's a teenage boy who has lost both his parents and lived through a lot of recent trauma."

"Good," Clarke said. And then she couldn't keep from adding, "Not that the Second Dawn elders would seem to care much, given that they sanction child abuse here." As Abby had requested not long ago, Kane had indeed broached the subject of child abuse with Second Dawn elders. The answer had been unsurprising and uncompromising: '_Parents are allowed to discipline their children as they see fit.'_

Kane nodded and took a breath. "At first I thought Cadogan was listening to me when I started to plead Jasper's case. But then his son Andrew piped up and said, 'But didn't you say **all** of your people have seen the deaths of loved ones?' And then he said, 'I had to turn my own brother in and watch him die. But I never looked back.'"

Kane paused before continuing, "This was the first I'd heard of Cadogan having had another son – let alone one who had been put to death - so I had to find out more information. I asked if they'd be willing to tell me more about it, since Andrew had brought it up."

"Be careful what you wish for," Abby muttered. Clearly Kane had already recounted the conversation to her, and she was not happy with the information Kane was about to divulge. Glancing at her mother, Clarke could tell that Abby was between worry and anger.

"Please tell me that they didn't put Cadogan's other son to death for making moonshine," Clarke remarked.

"It's even worse," Kane responded. The gravity of the situation was clearly reflected upon his face as he said, "They told me that Cadogan's older son had been named Luke and had…secretly had a boyfriend. Andrew discovered them and reported them. They were both executed."

"Clarke," Abby said, rising from the bed and kneeling next to Clarke's chair. "Remember what I said," she admonished, with a grave intensity in her voice. She grasped Clarke's arm. "I'm glad you're with Bellamy. And you cannot ever have that sort of relationship with another woman. Not while we're here."

"Mom!" Clarke exclaimed. "This isn't about me. We have to think about our people."

"When I'm finished having an anxiety attack over what they might do to you, then yes, I will worry about Jackson and the others. But you're my priority," Abby insisted unapologetically.

Clarke looked at Kane. Right now she needed facts and data. "What happened after that?"

"After that Andrew gave a few details on his brother's death. He was clearly proud of what he'd done." Kane paused. "The method they used was hanging."

"I wondered about that," Clarke said. "Can't float people out of a bunker." There was so much more to say about the subject, but Clarke wasn't going to go there now. Her own father had been floated, but Clarke couldn't think about that at this moment. As horrible as the Ark's justice system had been, they never had floated people for having consensual sex.

"Then we got back to talking about Jasper," Kane continued. "I asked for more information about their justice system – though you'll remember, we asked about that before we moved in and they never provided us with details." He took a breath. "They wouldn't tell me anything. We left it at this: the full group of elders is going to get together after breakfast tomorrow to discuss the situation more. I insisted on being there. But," he said, pausing, "I fear that jail time is a real possibility for Jasper."

"You need to fight this," Clarke insisted, standing up. "Remind them of everything we provided for them. Remind them that we don't have to keep doing it." She looked at Abby. "You said their only doctor seems like he wants to retire. Remind them that we can make them almost doctor-less. We can undo all of the improvements we've made to their air and water systems. Not to mention Monty's work with algae – we can pull the plug on that project and all its benefits."

"I'm already planning on it," Kane insisted. "I'll do everything within my power fight for Jasper. That young man is going to have another breakdown if he spends more time in a jail cell."

"I understand both of you are concerned for Jasper, but we have a bigger problem," Abby said, wringing her hands. "What we learned about Luke. We cannot let them do that to any of our people."

"Then include that as part of your bargaining," Clarke said, taking a step closer to Kane. "Tell them that they're not allowed to put any of our people to death, ever." She then added, "Unless we want to allow it in the event that one of our people commits a serious crime like murder or sexual assault. Beyond that, we need them to agree that our people are exempt from the death penalty."

"I am in full agreement with you," Kane insisted.

"And you know he's the best diplomat," Abby added. "I'm glad that you're our voice, Marcus."

Clarke looked at her mother. It was good, she knew, to see her happy and to see the obvious evidence that she'd found love. The love in Abby's voice when she's spoken that last line to Kane had resonated loudly. But as happy as Clarke was for her mother, the fact remained that her father's death would never, ever be okay. The wound would continue to ooze a bit of blood and pus every day.

But Clarke pushed it aside once more, as she had no choice. You just learned to live with it, same as if you were on the battlefield and had an injury, but had to fight through it if you wanted to survive the skirmish.

"Four years and ten months," she murmured.

There was no need to clarify for Kane and Abby what that amount of time signified. Clarke was not the only member of Skaikru who counted down the days until she could leave the Second Dawn behind forever.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Abby gave a worried glance at Kane, but Clarke mouthed 'don't worry'. Although Clarke had already figured out who was at the door, she stepped closer to it and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Bellamy."

Concerned over the amount of time Clarke had been away, Bellamy had set out to search for her. As she silently berated herself for giving him reason to worry, Clarke simultaneously felt suffused with warmth.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Question for readers - Did you like the Bellarke sex scene I posted a couple chapters ago? I enjoy writing them and can do more in that area!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven – Slightly more than four weeks since moving to the bunker**

Once Bellamy had been filled in on the details of Jasper's situation, Clarke and Bellamy made their way down the dimly lit hallway back to their room. They held hands but remained silent, Clarke guessing that his thoughts were aligned with hers. Jasper in trouble. And the new information about Cadogan's other son was disturbing to say the least.

"I'm gonna draw," Clarke said, once the door was closed. She reached for the stack of papers on the desk. "I don't think I'll be able to get much sleep tonight." She then glanced at him. "The light won't bother you, will it?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I don't think I'll be sleeping much either." He looked at the book on the end table. "I guess I'll read. So yeah, draw as much as you'd like."

Clarke lovingly touched a hand to his face and stroked it. Again, she didn't feel the need for words and simply enjoyed touching him, enjoyed the warmth she felt from being with him.

Less than an hour later, a knock sounded upon their door. Clarke was still sitting at the desk and drawing, while Bellamy was intermittently dozing on the bed. She turned and looked at him – he had bolted upright as soon as he'd heard the knock. They exchanged concerned looks.

"It's Raven," the voice on the other end called.

Clarke's heart pounded as she reached to open the door. What could've caused Raven to knock at his hour?

Raven stepped inside and glanced at both of them, as Clarke asked, "What are you doing here so late?"

Raven huffed, "I knew you two lovebirds wouldn't be sleeping anyway."

Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other and tried not to blush. It still felt just a bit odd for Clarke to have her friends – or anyone – talking about her relationship with Bellamy. She loved being with him though, whether it felt awkward to have Raven make a comment about it or not.

"Why are you here?" Bellamy attempted to redirect, getting out of bed to join the two of them in standing.

"I found a locked file earlier today – well, technically yesterday. I had to get it open so I pulled Monty away from his algae work," Raven explained. Despite the Second Dawn's flaws, they recognized that Raven and Monty were brilliant engineers, and both had always been allowed access to engineering, usually working there instead of on the more dull type of duty assignments like kitchen cleanup. The Second Dawn seemed to either not know or not care about Raven's workaholic tendencies, including her penchant for sometimes working at night.

Clarke and Bellamy leaned forward as Raven continued on. "It took us most of the night, but we did it. The file had old blueprints for another bunker. And a map. The location for this other bunker was – or is – right under Polis." She took a breath and added glumly, "Or under where Polis **used to** be."

"Another bunker? What would the Second Dawn need another bunker for?" Clarke wondered. "Even when their population level was at its peak, the Second Dawn never had more than 400 members here." The mention of Polis made Clarke pause just a bit. Lexa. Roan, Indra, and thousands upon thousands of other grounders who had burned up in the death wave.

"Yeah, and they easily accommodated all of us," Bellamy added. "Even now this place still feels big. It's not like they need the extra room."

"I agree, it's suspicious," Raven nodded. "Monty and I are going to keep digging and try to find out more. But every file about this bunker is really damn old. So it's clearly not something they've worked on recently."

Clarke mulled the information over. What could it mean? Were there other people living in another bunker right now? Could this bunker be an option for Skaikru, a way to get away from the Second Dawn? "See if you can find out exactly when they created the blueprints," Clarke suggested. "That could give us a clue of where to look next."

"Right," Raven said. "Oh, and not-so-fun fact. The project name on the blueprints – and on every other file we found related to this mystery bunker – was **The ****Unworthy**."

* * *

Kane met with Cadogan and the full group of elders right on schedule that morning. During the two hour meeting, his prowess at negotiation was put to its full test, but one advantage he had was that he was more skilled at diplomacy than the elders were. None of the elders had ever really had to fight for what he needed. Kane had been amongst these people long enough to discern that even most of the group's leaders were truly just followers, and that gave him a strategic advantage.

Kane was not surprised to find Monty, Harper, Clarke, and Bellamy waiting outside the meeting room. Jasper himself, of course, had been confined to his quarters since his moonshine had been discovered.

"Let's talk in private," Kane said to the group. Privacy was an elusive commodity inside the Second Dawn bunker, with the personnel quarters providing some of the only rooms with doors that closed. Monty and Harper's room was closest, so that's where the group ended up.

"Overall, the news is good," Kane began as soon as the door was shut. "Their original stance was pretty harsh. They wanted to put Jasper in prison for a year. I got them to agree to confine him to quarters instead. For four weeks."

Clarke felt her anxiety leaving her as she listened to Kane relay the information. She glanced around the room at the others, and they seemed to have similar reactions. Wisely, Monty appeared to be relieved. Clarke knew that he understood that, considering the alternative, this was indeed good news.

Kane continued, "They also agreed that he will be allowed two supervised visits from friends each day." He paused and added, "They unfortunately insisted that Jasper be put on, as they call it, 'bread and water' during his confinement. Which is exactly what it sounds like."

Monty shrugged and said straightforwardly, "I don't think it will matter. Bread and water - or chocolate cake. Jasper hasn't had much of an appetite since Mount Weather anyway. I'm sure he won't care what he eats." He looked down at his feet, clearly saddened by his best friend's current state. "Might not even notice." Harper gave him a sympathetic look and touched a comforting hand to his arm.

Clarke felt a pang in her chest, feelings of guilt for what happened at Mount Weather forever haunting her as she knew they haunted Jasper, Monty, and Bellamy. Though they all bore it in different ways. As if he could read her mind, Clarke felt Bellamy step closer to her and place a similarly comforting hand on her shoulder that she couldn't help but lean into. She turned to meet his eyes and saw a mixture of guilt and understanding there that reminded her of "together" and "if you need forgiveness I'll give it to you...you're forgiven". It was enough to soothe and strengthen her in that moment, and she felt an immense amount of gratitude and love in her heart for the man who always seemed to stand by her when she needed it the most.

She was broken from her quiet reverie by the sound of Harper's voice.

"Thank you Kane, for working this out. And compared to some of the meals we've eaten on the Ark and on the ground, bread and water don't sound too bad. Speaking from experience, chocolate cake is overrated anyway." Harper said that last part with a small smile, clearly trying to lighten some of the heaviness that had settled over the room.

Everyone let out collective sighs of relief. If someone like Harper who had suffered the brunt of the Mountain Men's torture could now joke about some of her time there, then maybe some day they would all be okay.

"I know this might sound like a strange question to ask," Harper began again. "But since there are no bathrooms inside our rooms…"

"They're going to post a guard outside his room – who, uh, will take him on bathroom breaks when he needs them," Kane said. He then added insistently, "This is a huge win for us. Although they wouldn't let me see the prison here, they did tell me that it's everything you fear it would be. Cold and dank. Jasper's much better off serving his sentence inside his room."

"You're right," Clarke said, not disguising her admiration for Kane, "Not to mention the fact that you got them down to one month from a year."

"Agreed. Thank you," Monty said, sincerely, to Kane. "Hopefully this will be the wake up call Jasper needs."

Kane returned the gratitude with a nod, before going on to explain that he and Cadogan had signed what Cadogan termed "a binding contract" to solidify the agreement. Kane and Jaha had signed a similar contract back when Skaikru first entered the bunker. It was a document that Cadogan and the elders considered sacred, a document whose terms they would honor.

Later, after Kane had left the room, Harper crossed her arms over her chest. "I miss Arkadia," she said glumly.

"Yeah," Bellamy agreed. "Kane did great but he's our only negotiator and the only one of our people they listen to. Other than Jaha, who from the get-go has always just gone along with the elders. We need a Plan B. What if something happens to Kane? And what happens next time one of our people breaks a rule and Kane can't work out a good deal for them?"

"Exactly," Harper chimed in. "Or the next time they tell us that they want us – us women, that is – to wear those damn dresses?" Harper muttered, "You know they're just waiting to bring it up again."

Monty placed a hand on Harper's shoulder, giving it a supportive squeeze. Silence enveloped the room, as the questions and worries hung heavy in the air. No one moved to break the silence. They had all discussed the Second Dawn and their strange and troubling ways _ad nauseam_, so Clarke was grateful that they let the subject go for now.

As the group stood there, Clarke just found herself naturally leaning in closer to Bellamy. And Bellamy might have subconsciously wanted to mimic the other couple, as he reached to put his arm around Clarke.

"I'm glad you two are together," Harper said, smiling and looking at the two of them

"Me too," Monty said. "I always thought you'd get together someday. Glad it finally happened."

Clarke found her face getting warm and she glimpsed Bellamy's bashful smile. She began to shift her weight, when Bellamy turned to look at Monty and Harper, "Right back at you. It's good to see you two together too."

Clarke was relieved to have the attention off of her. Her developing feelings for Bellamy were so strong and so intense that discussing them – even superficially – with other people just made her feel out of her element. Even simply standing next to him, with his arm flung casually about her shoulders, made her heart start to race with excitement. Still, the insanity of the Second Dawn's rules always lurked behind Clarke and kept her from feeling too settled or content at any time, no matter how much happiness Bellamy brought her.

Harper added, "One good thing about living here. We've all gotten a chance to do things like…take a breath. And have relationships."

Clarke nodded but she was the only one of the four not smiling. "But let's not forget that this place is dangerous. And it's ruled by a man who put his own son to death - for the crime of loving another man."

"You're right," Monty said, turning an abashed gaze downwards. "I guess it's wrong to be celebrating….all of this," he gestured with a wave of his hand, "when some of our friends could get in trouble for the same thing."

"We can celebrate it," Clarke said somberly. "But we have to keep all of our people in mind."

"And have their backs when they need it," Bellamy added firmly.

* * *

"Nate, I think he's coming a bit unhinged. Can you try talking to him again?"

Jackson and Miller sat inside Jackson's room. It was the middle of the day, and most of Skaikru were entertaining themselves inside the rec room if they weren't on their work shifts. But Miller had come around to viewing the bunker as a hostile place, with Jackson's room as one of the only areas he could let his guard down. Outside of the room, one absent-minded touch, one tiny gesture could give them away. Miller had always been glad of the fact that the Second Dawn members' quarters were located on different wings of the bunker than the Skaikru rooms; hopefully this meant none of them observed how often he was inside Jackson's room instead of his own.

"Did Bryan **say** anything to you this time?" Miller asked.

"No. Just glared at me, which was unsettling enough," Jackson answered.

Miller shook his head in exasperation. He had spoken to Bryan just a few days ago. Putting aside any sarcasm or wisecracks, Miller had been straightforward and blunt when he told him that they both needed to move forward now. Separately.

Bryan had responded with anger and resentment, and had looked like he'd been about to shove Miller at one point. Miller had simply left the room.

Jackson reached for Miller's hand. "I suppose I need to be patient," Jackson admitted. "Bryan's not the only member of Skaikru who's struggling, mentally and emotionally. Living here is such a change for our people, especially when many hadn't even begun to adapt to living on the ground." He took a breath. "Abby and I were just saying that we think about a dozen of our people are experiencing mental distress, to the point where it's interfering with their ability to function."

"I can see that," Miller responded, shaking his head. "The Bryan thing is still weird though. You know, I used to think he was tough. He survived everything that Farm Station went through when it landed. Losing most of their people to Azgeda. Having to go from being a farmer to being a fighter. Then the crap with ALIE." He paused, "Maybe it's all just crashing down on him now."

"Right. Maybe like too many straws broke the camel's back? And then you can add in this place, and the fact that he sees you more or less every day. A reminder of what he gave up. What could have been."

Miller gave an amused sigh. "I've actually tried to think if there was anyone else in Skaikru who might make a good boyfriend for him. Just to get his mind off of us. So I thought about every other guy I know who's into guys."

"So I take it…no luck?" Jackson asked, unsure if he was entertained or disquieted at the idea of Miller's research.

Miller ran down his list. No one seemed like a good match for Bryan.

Although the situation was bleak, Jackson couldn't help but to be amused by Miller's summaries. He didn't hold back a laugh. "I guess we're really lucky that we grabbed each other up when we did!"

Miller joined Jackson in laughing.

"It's good to see you happy, Jackson," he said, once they had sobered up. "Sometimes you look like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders." He moved his hand so he could place an arm across Jackson's back.

"You always cheer me up," Jackson said, putting a hand on Miller's thigh. He met his eyes and said, "I really love being with you. Every day, you…you bring me joy, you know?"

Miller moved his free hand to stroke Jackson's face. "I think the same of you." He gently pulled Jackson into a kiss. He let the kiss linger slowly, taking its time, kissing for the sake of kissing and not as a prelude to anything else.

* * *

Several days later, Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, and Monty huddled inside Clarke and Raven's room. Raven and Monty had resumed their research, scraping together computer files, inventory logs, and anything else they could crack. Their research indicated that 52 years ago, a small group of Second Dawn members had been allowed to leave the bunker and set out for Polis, to live inside another bunker that had been constructed around the same time as the Second Dawn's bunker.

The Second Dawn used the term The Unworthy to refer to both the group who had departed and their bunker under Polis.

"Wait," Bellamy began, "fifty-two years ago, Polis was filled with grounders. Wouldn't grounders have noticed a bunch of strangers walking into Polis and heading for an underground bunker?"

"Well remember," Clarke said, "back when we first got here, Jaha was told that the Second Dawn has always had spies." She frowned. "They always kept tabs on – and hated - the grounders. So it's not a stretch to think that Second Dawn people could've blended in well enough if they had to. And my mom shared with me that they've always had medicine here to protect people against radiation." She paused before adding, "Although the drugs don't last very long and have unpleasant side-effects."

"So that means they knew enough – and had enough drugs - to at least send a group to the other bunker," Raven summarized. "And it looks like it was a small group who left. Maybe just a dozen." She paused, "Of course we don't know if they made it. For all we know, Azgeda grabbed them a few hours after they left. The only thing we know for certain is that they did actually leave."

"And they took some supplies with them," Monty added. "But from what I can tell, looking at the hydroponics supplies they left with….I don't know if it was enough for them to actually get their farm up and running. I saw a lot of gaps."

"And I'm not impressed with the blueprints of the so-called Unworthy bunker," Raven said. "But from what I can see on the blueprints, I'm not sure if the group would've been able to get a hard seal against the radiation." She added, "Also, there's no evidence that any of the people who left were engineers or mechanics."

"Or farmers or doctors," Monty said.

"So who **did **leave?" Clarke asked.

"That information is a bit harder to come by," Raven answered. "I'm honestly not sure. But in any case, it clearly was **planned**. The Second Dawn gave them all that equipment, supplies, and meds."

"You said both the bunker itself and the people who left were called The Unworthy?" Bellamy asked. "That's got to tell us something. People they didn't want here?"

Clarke tilted her head. "We know now that they execute or imprison people who break the rules. So why was this group allowed to leave?"

"We'll keep digging," Raven said. "But I think we've uncovered everything there is. I'm not sure how much more info we can find."

Clarke nodded. "What about the other thing we discussed?"

Raven smiled. "The Door Plan. Which – we desperately need a new name for," she said, with a pointed tilt of her head. "It's coming along well."

Monty leaned forward. "We're almost there. If we have to, we should be able to seal a few strategic doors. We'd need to be inside engineering but we could do it."

"Good work you two," Clarke said. "As always."

The group finished their conversations and Monty and Bellamy left, leaving Clarke and Raven alone. "Hey," Clarke began softly. "How are you?"

Raven shrugged. "My leg still hurts. But I like having something to work on like this. So I'm fine." She sighed. "If the Second Dawn members weren't so horrible, this wouldn't be such a bad place to live."

"I know," Clarke said. "It's crazy, isn't it? This bunker has food, it has air, it's safe from the radiation. It's not paradise but….well, it could've been **decent** here."

"Yeah, except for those pesky details where they put people to death for having boyfriends. And allow child abuse."

Raven put a hand on Clarke's shoulder. "But hey, thanks for asking. Like I said, I'm just glad I have something like this to work on. Doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen all day would drive me crazy, not to mention my back and leg would hate me for it."

"Well, let's just hope all this hard work pays off. If you're right about this other bunker, then it may just be our best shot of keeping our people safe."

Raven nodded, meeting Clarke with a resolute look. "Don't worry, we'll figure this out like we always do. These assholes won't be able to hurt anyone else if I have anything to say about it."

Clarke smiled at Raven, despite the stress surrounding them. She was glad in moments like this that she wasn't having to make decisions alone anymore. That she had Bellamy, Raven, Monty, Harper and even Kane and her mother who she could rely on. Despite the increasingly dire circumstances they were in, Clarke felt hopeful that maybe there was a way out of all of this for them.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you again to everyone who has left a comment. They really do motivate me!_

_Warning - this chapter contains a M/F lovescene._

**Chapter Eight – Five Months Since Moving to the Bunker**

"Did I wake you up again?"

"Yeah. But it's okay."

Clarke and Bellamy lay in bed together. Bellamy's nightmare didn't make him scream this time, but it did have him tossing and turning to the point where it woke Clarke up. She coaxed him out of the nightmare with gentle whispers and soothing strokes to his back.

"Hey, come here," Clarke whispered, rearranging their bodies so she was now laying on her back. Bellamy gave her an uncertain look, before shifting to lie on his side, his arm wrapping around her waist and his head gently placed upon her chest. Clarke comfortingly stroked his hair, noticing it was slightly damp with sweat. Her heart clenched painfully at the realization, hating how distressed and haunted Bellamy still was. Knowing the distressing feelings all too well.

"It's been a while since I had a nightmare," Bellamy said, his breathing still uneven and his voice slightly breaking over that last word. "At least – a while since I had a really bad one. I think it's been more than two months."

"Yeah, at least two months. Maybe even longer?" Clarke speculated. "I know it's been a long time since you've woken me up. Oh." She stopped herself. "But I guess you don't always wake me up when you have them."

"I try not to," Bellamy responded quietly. His breathing was returning to normal.

"You can though," Clarke said firmly. "I wouldn't mind at all. I want you to talk to me when you need it."

Clarke meant what she said. Skaikru had been living in the Second Dawn bunker for five months now. Life for Clarke continued much as it had since they first moved in. She received her daily work assignment and followed it to the letter. She stopped by med bay to see if her skills could be useful; it just made sense to keep honing her own medical abilities for the day when she'd need them. She covertly spoke with Bellamy, Raven, and Monty on their plans to stay a step ahead of the Second Dawn elders. She made time for friends, often having a meal with Niylah or Raven or anyone else she wanted to keep close. She took her rations of paper and drew inside the rec room or inside her quarters - half of her walls were already covered with pictures. Most of them were scenes of the nature they'd lost. And, of course, the best part of any day: alone time with Bellamy.

"What about you?" Bellamy asked. "I mean, I know yours don't usually wake you up…"

"I still have them," Clarke admitted. "And I still draw after you fall asleep, mostly because I want to but sometimes because I just don't want to shut my eyes and have another nightmare." Bellamy soothingly rubbed her side and Clarke planted a kiss of appreciation on the top of his head. "I meant what I said," she added adamantly. "I don't mind you waking me up – whether it's accidental or not. It just feels good to hold you like this." Clarke paused. "Do you want to talk about this one…the nightmare you just had?"

"We don't have to," Bellamy responded. "It was a lot like the last one. Last time I think I kept you up half the night going over the details."

"I didn't mind then, and I wouldn't mind now." She spoke truthfully. "In fact, it helps me because I realize that my own nightmares aren't that crazy. Remember what I said last time. We have to keep talking about what we've lived through in order to work through it all." Clarke's study of the human body led her to study the human mind as well, and she liked to share those findings with Bellamy. She added firmly, "We're not weak for feeling…haunted and upset by the things we've lived through."

"Right. We're not weak. But I kinda want to forget the nightmare and think about something good now."

Clarke noticed that her breathing and Bellamy's breathing had just kind of synched up as they lay together. It felt good just to nestle with him like this. She liked the feel of his weight against her. She liked that he opened up with her when she asked, usually sharing what was going on inside of him. Thinking of the word 'sharing' just nudged Clarke down a more sensual route. Bellamy was so good about sharing his body, and with each passing moment, Clarke thought more and more about how good it would be to have him now. Her body was moving from languidly thinking about pleasure to more adamantly suggesting she pursue it. She also thought that making love might help him relax and forget about his nightmare.

"Hey Bellamy? Do you want to….do more than snuggle now?" she murmured.

Bellamy softly chuckled. "Are you able to read my mind now?"

"No," Clarke said, slowly shifting her position on the bed. "Just thinking you might want a pleasant distraction. Well, that and I accidentally brushed against **this **area of your body a few times," she added, again lightly brushing the suggested area.

"Are you sure that was just an accident?" he asked with a smile, and again Clarke loved the way his voice sounded lighter and more carefree now. The room was dark and so she didn't have many visual cues, but she suspected that Bellamy was starting to loosen up.

She repositioned herself so that she now lay on her side, in front of Bellamy. That sparked him into action, and Clarke just savored Bellamy's touches. He began by kissing the back of her neck, gently moving her hair out of the way. One of his hands leisurely strolled down the front of her body. As his lips roamed around the back of her neck and her shoulder, one of his hands moved under her shirt. The way he cupped and fondled her breast made her arousal continue to climb. As he gently pinched her nipple in the way he knew she liked, Clarke felt her body grow wet and felt her clit start to throb insistently.

Deciding that as much as she loved this position, she did want to feel Bellamy's lips against her own, Clarke turned slightly so that she could pull his mouth towards hers. His kiss was delicious. She luxuriated in the feel of his lips and tongue against her own. The man knew how to kiss! He took his time, he started gentle and then got more passionate, more intense.

"Mmmmm such a good kisser," Clarke murmured. She then pulled him back against her for more deep, passionate kisses. She loved exploring his mouth with her tongue. The intimacy of the deep kiss just continued to make her arousal grow.

Clarke slowly broke away from the kiss to pay Bellamy a compliment – and to make a suggestion. "You know, you have really talented fingers," she whispered.

"You want me to use them now?" Bellamy asked eagerly. She found his eagerness to be enticing.

"Yes."

Clarke turned back onto her side, quickly shimmying her pants off. She liked this position for the easy access it gave Bellamy. He used his practiced skill to reach around, and down, slowly traveling over her stomach. His hand reached her pleasure center, which was throbbing and wet and eagerly anticipating all the sensations that he would bring to her.

"Yes, good, start there," Clarke whispered. His fingers rubbed against her wetness, and slowly, gently he inserted a few. Bellamy stroked and stroked. He resumed kissing the back of her neck as his fingers continued to move rhythmically. Clarke eventually murmured, "Okay, just move them up now."

Bellamy gently complied, moving his fingers upwards. Finding their target, he stroked her clit. "Oh god," Clarke gasped. "Just like that." It was almost too much, his fingers rubbing her swollen bud, as his tongue casually flicked against her ear. Her hips couldn't resist moving and pressing against his fingers as she chased her release.

"Oh god Bellamy yes," she groaned, her body shaking. A few more thrusts against Bellamy's skilled fingers and she felt herself go over the edge. Sharp, delicious, sexy pleasure overtook her. She stayed with it even as she came down from her peak, continuing to work herself against his fingers, trying to extract every bit of deliciousness from her orgasm. Eventually she eased off of his fingers.

"Can I…?" Bellamy began after several moments when Clarke's movements had slowed.

"You know, I love that you always ask even though we both know you don't need to," Clarke said, her words sincere though a bit bemused too. Her senses had returned and she wanted to ensure Bellamy knew how she felt about this.

"Of course I need to," Bellamy insisted. "And I always will."

"Well then yes, please, I **want** you inside of me. The sooner the better!"

Clarke felt Bellamy quickly discard his own garments. She moved just slightly forward, to make it easier for him to slip in from behind. It was a different kind of pleasure now, Clarke mused. The fullness of him penetrating her was deeply satisfying, especially after she'd had such a strong orgasm. She loved hearing his groans and grunts, knowing that this felt so good for him. Even the way his hands gripped her provided another level of pleasure.

'Dirty talk' had never been her strongest suit, she knew, but when Clarke felt Bellamy move faster and faster and get closer and closer, she made sure to let him know how hard he'd made her come and how sumptuous it felt to have him inside of her felt right now. She told Bellamy how good he was to her and how lucky she felt to have him as her man. His movements continued to grow more frantic, and he let out a loud moan as he came.

Not long later, he was snuggled against her again, and asleep. Clarke hoped that this would be a peaceful slumber for him and that the nightmares would remain at bay for the rest of the night. She turned to fluff her pillow.

_Love_, she told herself. _I love him_._ Probably have for a long time now. I think he loves me too. But we've never said the words to each other. How do I know when the time is right?_

She continued to ponder the question. Love wasn't easy and it never would be, not when you came from a world where your loved ones got floated, where death always hovered at the edges, waiting to take someone from you. And yet. _I love him. When do I tell him? How do I tell him?_

* * *

Kane sat inside the meeting room with Jaha, Cadogan, and Cadogan's group of elders during one of their weekly meetings to discuss the functioning of the bunker. The young Andrew Cadogan was in charge of the agenda, and the group went through each item methodically: engineering, food, air, medical. A space for "open items" was always placed at the end of the agenda.

Sometimes Kane looked around the table and blinked. It was still so odd being in a room consisting of leaders who were exclusively male and – with the exception of Andrew – middle-aged or older. Before this, whether he'd been on the Ark or standing before Lexa and the coalition leaders, leadership hadn't belonged to just one sex or age group. Kane shook his head. His time on the ground standing before the grounder clan leaders almost felt like it had happened to someone else. Here and now, he tried to do the best he could to be a voice of reason and an advocate for Skaikru, especially since he found Jaha and his loyalties somewhat ambiguous.

"I have a new item," John Cadogan said, once they reached the bottom of the agenda. He cleared his throat and began, "In one month's time, it will be the start of our new year. And it will also mark six months since we opened our doors to Skaikru. I think we should hold what we call a mixer." Turning towards Kane and Jaha, he explained, "A mixer is a social event for the folks who are unmarried. We keep it under control, as you can imagine. There is music and socializing – chaperoned, of course. And a few culinary treats that we reserve for special occasions. Anyone here who is unmarried could take part."

"That sounds great," Jaha said.

Kane tried not to frown at Jaha's enthusiasm for such an event, especially since he knew the man was aware of Cadogan's prejudices. He wasn't surprised that Cadogan was suggesting something like this. The two groups, Skaikru and the Second Dawn, were still just as much like oil and water as the day Skaikru moved in. The groups rarely, if ever, mingled despite the multitude of opportunities for them to do so after daily services, at meals, during work shifts, and in the rec room. The two groups just had so little in common that it was hard for them to form the foundation for any conversations, let alone friendships. Even Kane, a natural diplomat, struggled with it and no one else in Skaikru matched his diplomatic skills.

He'd had many discussions with Abby and Clarke over the past few months. They fully believed that one of the Second Dawn's motivations for sheltering Skaikru was to, in the long run, diversify their gene pool. Kane disliked the idea on principle, but he was a man of logic and reason, and he couldn't deny the fact that someday the two groups would probably need to intermarry if for no other reason than the fact that the 765 people living here constituted the last of the human race. It was obvious though that in order for that to happen, something needed to change. Kane would have preferred things happen more naturally, but clearly with their new year approaching Cadogan wanted to monopolize on the opportunity it presented.

"I don't like that idea," one of the other elders, a man named Stephen, spoke up. "As we've discussed many times, the Skaikru women are not dressed appropriately. I don't think our groups are ready for a mixer, until that changes."

Kane felt himself tensing up at the mention of the dress code again, although he was able to maintain a neutral expression. He knew giving away his personal feelings on the matter wouldn't help and that maintaining an air of cooperation with these leaders was important. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the other elders were also viewing the mixer as a first step towards the Second Dawn expanding its gene pool. If it were to be a mere social event, why else would they bring up the dress code?

"Our position on that isn't changing, Stephen," Kane said. His hands were folded, resting atop the table. "And bringing up the dress code again will turn Skaikru away, rather than making them want to mingle."

"I don't think—" Stephen piped up again, but a wave of Cadogan's hand silenced him.

"Marcus speaks the truth," Cadogan said. With a smile he turned to Kane and added, "Someday your people will come around on the dress code, but let's keep it tabled for now. In any case, we can all agree that a harmless mixer with music and desserts would be good."

"As long as we have enough chaperones!" another elder, this one named Donald, insisted as he leaned forward in his seat and waggled a finger in the air. "I won't allow anyone to get fresh with my daughters!"

"We will have plenty of chaperones," Cadogan said firmly.

Once the meeting was over and Kane and Jaha had left the room, Stephen muttered to another elder, "My son had better stay away from those Skaikru women at the mixer. I'd never let him touch one of their mannish, trouser-wearing females!"

* * *

It was time. Bryan was ready to put his plan into action. All the pieces were ready, and he just needed to perform his final checks to see if today was the day he could pull the lever.

He began by getting up far earlier than usual. This part was simple. Given the anxiety and sadness he constantly experienced, Bryan didn't sleep much anyway. At 0615 hours, he rose from bed and dressed quickly. He silently put his boots on and made his way down the corridors to the library.

As he quietly entered the room, Bryan passed by stacks and stacks of books until he finally reached the back of the library. And there, lying on the sofa was Sergeant David Miller, asleep with a book resting atop his chest. Bryan had first overheard someone mention it during dinner, weeks ago – how the Sergeant must really love to read since he often fell asleep in the library, despite having been told that he was allowed to bring one book at a time back to his room.

Finding him here was one checkmark on Bryan's list. Satisfied with the discovery, he turned and headed for med bay. This part of his plan made his heart start to pound. What he found - or more hopefully **didn't** find - would determine whether or not today was the day. Bryan pushed through the med bay doors, immediately taking in the two Second Dawn nurses inside. One sat at a desk, the other stood as she looked through charts.

"Is Dr. Jackson here?" Bryan asked.

"No," a nurse replied. "We don't have any patients right now, so we don't expect him until after breakfast. Do you need anything? Are you ill?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

Thankfully neither of the Second Dawn nurses seemed to suspect anything. So Bryan quickly exited med bay, glancing at his watch and noting that it was now 0630 hours. Religious services began promptly at 0700, so that meant this was it. His plan was finally going to work. His heart again began to pound.

To calm himself down, Bryan silently went over the facts, one by one, again. Miller's favorite time of day to have sex was early in the morning - given that Bryan was Miller's ex, he knew this fact quite well. Miller also liked to have sex often, especially at the beginning of a new relationship. But the past two mornings, Jackson had been in med bay before services began - Bryan had checked both days. Today, however, Jackson wasn't in med bay. Which meant he was probably in his room with Nate. And with religious services starting in 30 minutes and Sergeant Miller currently in the library - instead of in his shared room with Jackson - it only served as a final confirmation that Bryan's suspicions were true. All the pieces were coming together.

Bryan strode towards the wing of the bunker where the Second Dawn members slept. Just from overhearing a few things here and there, he knew which person he wanted to go to.

As his boots hit the ground, with each step Bryan also knew that this was his last chance to abandon this idea. There would be no going back once he knocked on Andrew Cadogan's door. But no, he decided, he wasn't going to abandon it. Either way, he was never going to get to have sex or a relationship ever again. So why not bring Miller down too and see him similarly deprived? Bryan was angry, traumatized, and in need of revenge. And sure, he knew that at some point, perhaps at Miller's trial (would he be given a trial? Bryan didn't know or care), Miller might "out" Bryan as his ex. But it would just be one man's word against another's, and the Second Dawn would have proof that Miller was a "degenerate". So they wouldn't take Miller seriously. And Bryan made the bet that no one else in Skaikru would dare say anything that would get another of their members imprisoned or executed, so he wasn't worried about anyone else outing him either.

Not that he would have cared much if they had.

He had nothing to lose now. He had no one. No parents, no lover, and no prospect of ever having a lover again. His farm station friends had all died either when the Ark went down, or shortly afterwards thanks to Azgeda. His leader Pike had been killed by that maniac Octavia – who had never gone on trial for what she did, who just walked free. Even those who had been friendly towards Bryan back when he was Miller's boyfriend – Harper, Monty, Bellamy – had left no doubt after the breakup that they were Miller's friends, not Bryan's.

The thought of bringing Miller down was the only thought that made Bryan feel good, the only thing he had to look forward to now.

So he knocked loudly on the door and just a moment later, Andrew Cadogan opened up.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Bryan began. "But I have reason to believe that two Skaikru men are committing indecent acts with each other. I know where they are. Please come with me."

Andrew took a few seconds to process the information, but once it finally registered, he didn't waste any time. He grinned and grabbed a nightstick from under his bed, gesturing for his roommate to get up and follow them. They quickly made their way through the corridors as Bryan led them to Jackson and Miller's room.

* * *

Last night had been the perfect night for Nathan Miller. Sometimes his sleep was interrupted by nightmares, or just occasional and annoying bouts of insomnia. But last night, he slept like a baby largely because Jackson was there. Oftentimes Jackson slept inside med bay to closely monitor a patient, or he was woken up in the middle of the night and pulled away for the latest emergency. (Miller had to swallow his anger over the fact that Jackson was inevitably the doctor who got woken up in the middle of the night for emergencies. The nurses never called Abby during the night, and they certainly never, ever called Jones. Always Jackson. It made Miller fume, but there was nothing he could do. At least whenever Jackson was summoned, whichever nurse called for him would knock on his door and remain in the hallway – oblivious to the fact that Miller was usually inside his quarters too, making sure no one saw him when Jackson emerged).

In any case, last night things were blessedly uneventful. Miller had put his arms around Jackson, spooning him, and both men lay their heads on the pillow. Miller loved it. He was happiest when he had a man in his life, always would be. And…not just any man, but _this _man! Eric Jackson, who was so gentle and so wise, and so loving. Even after they had kissed goodnight, Miller couldn't resist planting another kiss on the back of Jackson's head. Jackson had made a soft murmuring of appreciation and squeezed Miller's hand.

As sleep slowly overcame him, Miller had thought about and appreciated how lucky he was. It had been a few months now since Jackson had told him that he loved him. Miller had returned the sentiment right away, and he didn't hesitate to share it again whenever he felt the moment was right to say those three words. Love was such a precious thing to have in the midst of all the strife that he, and everyone else, had suffered.

And now, right now, this morning was even better than last night. No medical emergencies had come in during the night. Both men had checked the time, knowing that being late for religious services was not an option. But they had time, glorious time, this morning. So it began with several long, languid kisses. Miller especially enjoyed the look and feel of the facial hair that Jackson was growing. He'd suggested that Jackson give it a try, Jackson had liked the idea, and Miller was pleased with the result.

Miller had never enjoyed partially-clothed sex. He always wanted to see and touch everything, without a stitch of clothing obstructing the way. So just as he preferred, he and Jackson had quickly divested themselves of all their sleepwear. They resumed kissing. Part of Miller never wanted to stop, just loving the feeling of his mouth against Jackson's as he stroked the back of Jackson's head.

But Jackson was quietly urging him on for more, and Miller was happy to let his own baser needs move to the foreground.

When the door was thrust open, Jackson was laying on his back, with Miller crouched before him, Jackson's hardness inside his mouth. Everything happened, for Miller, within the span of a second or two. Jackson bolting upright and scrambling to cover himself with a blanket. Miller whirling his head around and taking in the sight of Andrew Cadogan, and at least two other men behind him. Jackson yelping, "It's not what you think!"

And vaguely, Miller's brain registered Bryan standing behind the Second Dawn men.

Andrew Cadogan spoke, "I'll give you ten seconds to get dressed, and then you're under arrest." He paused, narrowed his eyes, and smiled, "The prison's really cold so you probably want to get some clothes on. You can plan to spend the rest of your miserable, perverted lives inside of it."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you again to everyone who has left a review!_

**Chapter Nine – Five Months Since Moving to the Bunker**

The day started out like any other for Bellamy. He and Clarke took their places along with everyone else, sitting down on a wooden pew promptly at 0700 hours. The religious service began. Bellamy, as most of Skaikru, silently wished the benches were more comfortable so that he could snooze. Still, he sat back and intermittently closed his eyes.

Octavia sat near him. Bellamy knew that things were far from perfect with his sister, but at least they were occasionally speaking to each other. Niylah sat on Octavia's other side, and Bellamy was glad that his sister had a loyal friend.

Clarke nudged him not long after the service began. "Kane's not here," she whispered. "Neither are Miller or Jackson."

Bellamy admired Clarke's natural instincts to just keep tabs on her people. He turned his head and saw that Abby sat a few pews behind them, next to a worried-looking Sergeant David Miller. He observed Clarke and her mom mouth a few sentences back and forth.

"Well?" Bellamy whispered, not quite as adept at reading Abby's lips.

"Mom thinks Kane might be with the elders," Clarke whispered back. "Doesn't explain Miller and Jackson's absence though."

Bellamy acknowledged her words with a nod. Doctors were, of course, excused from religious services if there were medical emergencies. Maybe Miller had hurt himself? But Bellamy knew just from looking at Clarke and from his own leadership instincts that there were too many coincidences here, especially given Kane's absence as well. He saw Clarke craning her head to try to determine if any of the Second Dawn elders were absent too, but that was a futile task; they always sat many rows closer to the front than Skaikru did. All they could really see was a sea of the backs of people's heads.

"I don't see Jaha anywhere either," Bellamy observed. Worry continued to creep through his veins.

The service passed at an interminably slow rate. As soon as it was over, Clarke and Bellamy made a beeline for Abby and the Sergeant. "Come on," Clarke said. "Let's find Kane."

* * *

When there had been a possibility of Jasper Jordan going to prison, Kane had shared with Abby that the elders hadn't let him see the prison but had only told him it was "dank and cold". Jackson was now learning how accurate those descriptors were.

He and Miller had dressed as quickly as he could before Andrew Cadogan and the others had hauled them away. Jackson had thrown on pants and a long-sleeved shirt. He couldn't find his socks but had just managed to cram his shoes on before the men grabbed him and Miller, saying "We'll drag you there now if we have to!"

In addition to being frigid, the cell was terrifyingly dark and small. Jackson had enough room to stand up and take two steps, and that was it. There was a hard ledge he could sit on, and a hole in the floor from which the stench of sewage arose. When he got exhausted, he surmised, he could try to lie down on the floor in fetal position, though he couldn't think of any way to do so and avoid the sewers. The cell was not even big enough for a bed.

He ached to hold Miller. He ached to be back in his arms and wished that this was just a horrible nightmare. His throat was dry, his body shivering, and he was terrified out of his mind. Jackson had called out many times but there had been no response. Who knew how large this prison was, or how far away Miller's cell was? And who knew how much time was passing?

Jackson sat back down and forced himself to take a few breaths. Abby would know very soon that he was missing, and she would do everything she could. He just had to wait and get a hold of his breathing, and keep repeating that thought. _Abby probably already has Kane and Clarke on it_. _They will help us. _Jackson continued to force his mind away from the worst places. _Yes, Nate is probably freaking out in his cell but he is strong. He survived being chained to the wall in Mount Weather. He survived the Sky Box on the Ark and the dropship and the war with the grounders. And ALIE and the battle at Polis. He's a lot tougher than I am. And our people will fight for us._

Jackson didn't know how much time had passed when finally, at long last, he heard footsteps and the door to his cell creaking open. He was forced to squint at the light, his eyes already painfully used to the dark. Abby rushed to him and hugged him. Jackson vaguely made out two Second Dawn men standing behind Abby.

"We're working on it," Abby rasped quickly. "They didn't allow me much time with you, but we're working on it."

"Miller?" Jackson croaked his partner's name out.

"They're allowing his father a brief visit right now. We are doing everything we can," Abby said resolutely. She turned towards one of the men behind her, and gestured as she said, "Also, we brought you something."

Jackson was handed something soft and bulky: a folded blanket and a jacket, topped with a pair of socks. "And the water," Abby said to the men.

Due to the darkness, he couldn't see the expressions on the faces of the Second Dawn men but if he could, he would've seen contempt and hatred. One of them thrust a cup of water into Jackson's hands. It splashed against his sleeve, chilling him even more.

"Visit's over," the other Second Dawn man said.

"Just a second," Abby barked back. "Step back a bit and give us some space," she commanded, leaving no doubt that she would be obeyed.

Jackson's heart pounded at Abby's toughness. It hadn't always been easy, years ago, being her pupil and mentee because she could be so hard. But he was glad now to have this fierce advocate on his side. The Second Dawn men did as Abby ordered.

Abby pulled Jackson into another hug so that she could whisper into his ear. "We snuck some muffins wrapped up inside the blanket. And some supplies from medical." Knowing that it was too dark for Jackson to read the labels, she added, "Just some mild sedatives and some disinfectants. Yes, Miller's getting the same. Clarke's working on a plan. I don't know how long it will be."

"Thank you so much," Jackson said, also whispering into her ear. He trembled. Not knowing how much time they had, the rest of the words spilled out breathlessly. "I don't want anything to happen to Nate. Maybe we can come up with a plan, I don't know, say that I forced him into it. If it will spare him from getting killed. I'd do any-"

Abby cut him off and again growled, "Don't say **anything** to any of them. We're working on a plan," she repeated.

Apparently one of the Second Dawn men overcame his fear of Abby and remembered his place on the hierarchy. He stepped forward, shoved Jackson, and grabbed Abby's arm. "That's plenty of time. We're going. Unless you want a cell of your own!"

* * *

Kane sat inside the meeting room with Jaha and the Second Dawn elders.

"We demand the release of our people," Kane began again. They had been talking in circles for the past twenty minutes. He reiterated Skaikru's demand, his voice firm.

"We are keeping them in prison indefinitely," Cadogan said, his voice equally solid as Kane's. "We agreed months ago that there would be no death penalty for Skaikru. So be satisfied with a lifelong prison sentence for them instead."

"That is not acceptable. We absolutely do not agree to them spending the rest of their lives in prison."

"And we absolutely do not agree to anything else."

Kane took a breath and sat back. He took stock of the facts. He and Cadogan weren't getting anywhere right now. Cadogan had put his own son to death for being with another man. And looking around the room, Kane could see that the entire group of elders had facial expressions somewhere between fury and disgust. He knew, however, that Clarke and the others had some tricks up their sleeves – though those would definitely have to function as last resorts. Apart from those more extreme measures, there were other levers Skaikru could pull. They could refuse to provide any more medical services, pull the plug on the algae farm, refuse to share any more technical expertise.

But Kane didn't think now was the time for brinksmanship. He didn't want to lead with threats to cease cooperating and cease working on upgrades. After all, he still had 450 members of Skaikru who needed to live here for the next four and a half years.

Taking on a more conciliatory tone, Kane said, "Let's continue this discussion later. How about before dinner?"

Cadogan crossed his arms over his chest. "There's not much to discuss. The two men were caught in the middle of a sex act," he spat out the last few words.

"And they're lucky we haven't put them to death!" the elder named Stephen added, wriggling a finger in the air. "You should be thanking us, not trying to finagle their release from prison!"

Kane remained silent for a moment. A few seconds ago he had wanted to dismiss Clarke's plans as extreme, but now he was wondering if they truly might need to use them someday. In any case, he knew he needed to gather more information from Clarke, Raven and the others.

"We do thank you," Jaha spoke up. "But I think Marcus is right. We need to discuss this again soon. We have always respected your ways, but leaving two of our people to rot in those cells for the rest of their lives just is not acceptable to us."

Cadogan exhaled loudly. "Tomorrow. We talk more tomorrow."

Kane nodded his ascent.

One of the other elders, a slight but insufferable man named Donald, piped up as the group began to disburse. "When can we discuss plans for the mixer? My eldest daughter needs a husband!"

* * *

Niylah grabbed Clarke as the leader walked quickly down the corridor. "Something happened," Niylah whispered urgently, ushering Clarke against the wall. "Jackson didn't show up for his shift. And Octavia heard something from Bellamy. Were Jackson and Miller really arrested?"

"We're on it," Clarke insisted, her eyes darting around to ensure no one was within earshot. "I'm just on my way to meet with Kane and the others now." She took a breath, leaned closer to Niylah, and lowered her voice even more. "Be extra careful, Niylah."

Niylah was quiet for a moment. She acknowledged Clarke's words with a nod. "We are."

Clarke knew who the "we" was. Niylah had shared with her several weeks ago that she had begun a relationship with a Second Dawn nurse named Anne. Clarke had only seen them together in public a few times, and she knew the women were trying to be as discrete as possible.

* * *

A group crammed themselves inside Kane and Abby's room. It consisted of Clarke, Bellamy, Kane, Abby, Raven, Monty, Jaha, and Sergeant Miller. Kane had just finished recapping the meeting with the elders, and he'd added in his concerns about pushing the elders to the brink too soon. Bellamy stood, anxiously. He was eager to get his friend out of prison and ready to do whatever needed to be done.

"There's no way," Clarke stated firmly. "We're not leaving them in those prison cells." Bellamy looked at her and once again admired her resolve. She spoke in a commanding tone, and he knew that the others listened to her.

"The cells were a nightmare," Abby said, shaking her head. "Pitch dark and cold. There wasn't even a bed in there – or enough room for one."

Bellamy noticed that Jaha happened to be standing next to Sergeant Miller, and Jaha placed a hand on the Sergeant's arm. Bellamy still could barely tolerate the sight of the former chancellor, and he blinked at observing the caring gesture Jaha had made.

"Clarke's right," Bellamy spoke up. "They either release them, or we start pulling some levers."

"That's what I need more information about," Kane began, evenly. "You've told me bits and pieces. I need to know now exactly what you know and," he said after a pause, "what you can do."

Clarke took a breath as she looked around the room. "Let's start with what we know – and then move on to what we can do." She told the group about the plans that Raven and Monty uncovered, the blueprints for the second bunker, the small group of people and supplies who left this bunker 52 years ago.

"Okay," Kane said, crossing his arms. He summarized, "So there probably is a second bunker under Polis but based on what you could find, you're not sure if it was structurally sound, or had the right people and supplies to achieve a hard seal."

"And don't forget the hydrofarm," Monty piped up. "I don't think they had the right equipment – or expertise - to sustain their farm." He added, "All the necessary equipment is here, of course. With our expertise and the Second Dawn's materials, we should be able to make the other bunker sustainable."

Kane appeared to be thinking and then turned back to Clarke. "What else then? I know you've been busy these past few months."

"Busy giving us a few options," Clarke acknowledged. "We had a feeling that a day like today would happen sooner or later." She turned towards Raven and nodded.

"If we need to," Raven began, "we can control most of the important doors. Like the ones leading to the Second Dawn members' bunks. And the hydrofarm. And engineering. But," she added, "we pretty much need to be inside engineering to do it. The tablets here won't cut it."

Just as Bellamy had silently admired Clarke a few moments ago, he took a second to appreciate Raven and Monty's brilliance as well. He silently asked himself when was the last time he'd told them how good they were.

"It seems you and Monty easily go in and out of engineering all the time though," Jaha observed. Bellamy watched the former chancellor. Jaha had an engineering background, Bellamy knew, but Raven had said that Jaha stayed out of engineering, apparently preferring to instead spend his time with the elders and Kane.

"We do. Their 'engineers' don't like us very much, but they know that we're a lot smarter than they are," Raven said straightforwardly. "They tolerate us."

"Sounds like a certain Second Dawn doctor," Abby muttered, shaking her head.

"Oh, and also – we found the armory," Clarke said. Just as she'd done in Mount Weather, Clarke had used blueprints and her own ability to sneak around to locate it.

"And Monty's gotten really good at unlocking doors," Raven added. "Including the door to the armory." She added, "We'll also need to expect that Second Dawn members might have a few guns stashed in places other than the armory – and develop plans for how to deal with that."

Jaha stepped forward and cleared his throat. "I know that we are only gathering information and starting to formulate plans," he began, clasping his hands together. "But I would like to remind us of something as we make those plans. Taking any sort of drastic action – such as taking over the hydrofarm – well, that will push us past a point of no return. We have 450 members of Skaikru, who need to live here in order to survive. And that other bunker doesn't sound at all viable. We need to be very careful before we push the elders too hard."

"We're not leaving my son in that prison cell for the rest of his life!" the Sergeant said firmly.

"We will not," Jaha agreed. "We must, however, think of the other 450 members of Skaikru."

Bellamy couldn't remain quiet any longer. "It's always a numbers game for you, isn't it, Jaha?" he asked. "Just a math problem in your eyes." He had been doing the best he could to tolerate the former chancellor, but the past wasn't something he could just forget either. Bellamy wished that Jaha hadn't wormed his way into this meeting, but Jaha had always gone with Kane to the meetings with the elders, and so Bellamy had to admit that they probably needed Jaha's buy-in for any plans. He forced himself to take another breath.

"Those prison cells here make the Sky Box on the Ark look like pure luxury," Abby added, perhaps trying to deflect Bellamy from his anger and remind them of the immediate problem.

Kane looked first at Jaha and then at David Miller. "We'll keep in mind what you said, Thelonius. I think we have enough advantages now that we can put a plan together that will keep all of Skaikru safe."

"What did you say the name of this other bunker was?" Abby asked.

Clarke looked down and then said the words. "The Unworthy."

* * *

Part of the plan involved Kane speaking one-on-one with Cadogan. He had to find a way for Cadogan to compromise without losing face among the rest of the elders, Kane knew. He also knew that Cadogan could often be found in the library before dinner, reading religious texts – and indeed that was where and when he found the leader.

"Mind if I join you?" Kane asked as he approached.

"I know why you're here, Marcus," Cadogan answered, sounding perturbed and not looking up from his book. "You're wasting your time."

"Look," Kane began, sitting down across from Cadogan. "Our two people have coexisted here for months. We don't always understand each other or agree with each other, but we always manage to get along." He took a breath. "But we cannot accept having two of our people kept in those conditions. When the rest of Skaikru finds out…." He let his voice trail off.

"We can't compromise any more on this," Cadogan replied. "I stand by what I said earlier. Those two men of yours are lucky they're not facing death by hanging tonight." He continued to look down at his book instead of at Kane.

"John, I won't try to…debate the finer points of your religious and moral beliefs. Obviously things have worked well here for the Second Dawn for a long time." He took a breath. "You made an exception for how you handled Jasper Jordan's situation. Why not do the same here? Confine Miller and Jackson to quarters until we can find some agreement. Making an exception, just as you did with Jasper, seems like the right decision here."

Cadogan shut the book and met Kane's eyes. "No. It does not. Maybe among your people you fail to see the distinction, but what Jasper did cannot be compared to…the other crime, which is fairly unspeakable among our people. I didn't put my own son to death for it to see your people get out of prison. The answer, again, is no," he said firmly.

Kane hadn't wanted to get to this point, but he saw no choice right now. "Skaikru has helped the Second Dawn in immeasurable ways," he said, this time his voice was firm as steel. "Air filtration. Medical advances. We've improved the productivity of the hydrofarm, and begun the algae farm too." He paused for effect. "I would hate to see us unable to work together in these areas any longer."

Cadogan gave a haughty laugh. "You think I don't talk regularly to our engineers and our doctor? They're all confident that they understand what your people have taught us. It's not like you can just turn back the clock on these advances. We have the knowledge now. True, the algae farm isn't finished yet, but we haven't needed it in the past and don't need it now." He shrugged. "So it's fine if you want to pull the plug on that."

_He's got me for now_, Kane said to himself.

As Kane remained silent, Cadogan continued. "We're not letting your people out of prison. That's the end of that."

Two elders slowly approached Cadogan and Kane. Their conversation was over.

* * *

Although Cadogan hadn't compromised on the bigger issue, Skaikru was permitted another visit to their prisoners. As two Second Dawn men stood behind him, Bellamy faced Miller in the doorway to his cell.

The first thing he had communicated to Miller, as soon as the cell's door had been opened, was that Jackson was doing as well as could be expected, and had been visited by Abby in the morning. Miller had asked that whoever visit Jackson next be sure to tell him that Miller sent his love.

"We will," Bellamy said firmly. "Abby's visiting him again right now. And here," he said, handing Miller a tray. "They let me bring you dinner."

"Thanks. I'm glad they let you visit me." Miller's voice was glum and desolate, as Bellamy expected. The dinner tray that Bellamy handed him was the first meal he had been officially permitted since being placed inside the cell (the breakfast foods had, of course, been smuggled inside). Miller's prodigious appetite now, for once, was muted.

"So really, it's just after dinner now? And I've been here less than 12 hours? Feels longer." Miller paused. "A lot longer."

"I know." Bellamy said.

Bellamy cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "You got our gifts this morning, right?"

"Yeah." The sedative had been especially appreciated. Miller had a few doses left, and wasn't sure how he'd survive – and not have panic attacks - in the tiny cell without them.

"There will be more tomorrow. I mean, don't worry. We're doing everything we can to get you out. All of us, Clarke and Kane and Raven, are meeting constantly to figure out what to do."

"I know." Miller paused. "Tell me something good. How's Clarke?"

"She's good. She's brilliant." He again lowered his voice. "She and Kane are great chess players, and…they'll figure this chess game out. We all will." He paused. "Niylah says it was your ex who turned you in?" He omitted Bryan's name just in case the two Second Dawn men behind him could hear.

"Yeah. He's been a jealous wreck since we got here. I tried to reason with him and be patient with him." He gave a bitter laugh. "Not enough apparently. Had no idea he'd pull something like this."

Although it was impossible to see much given the lack of light, Bellamy's ears picked up that Miller sounded sad and resigned – rather than angry - at Bryan.

"Are you gonna…?" Bellamy began hesitantly.

"What? Tell our jailors that he's my ex and that according to their twisted rules he belongs in here too?" The sarcastic Miller that Bellamy was used to had apparently returned. But then he turned serious again. "No. I'm furious at him but that won't make this better. Besides, he'll just deny it – and they won't believe me anyway."

"I thought the same. Glad you agree. I mean, I'm furious at that idiot too." He shook his head. "But it won't do anyone any good if they imprison him too."

"Hey, Bellamy," Miller began, swallowing and taking a step closer. "I never thanked you and Clarke for Mount Weather. You rescued us from there. If it wasn't for you…" he let his voice trail off. He suddenly sounded far more emotional than usual.

"You did, uh, actually thank us," Bellamy said, feeling a bit awkward. "I mean, you thanked me. Clarke was gone at the time. But uh, you know, just doing my job," he mumbled. Bellamy guessed that being cooped up here was making Miller feel emotional and desperate, and part of him just needed to recall a time when he'd gotten out of an impossible situation. Still Bellamy had a hard time accepting the gratitude. It wasn't something he'd gotten a lot of over the years.

Miller then whispered in his ear, "Remember, I'm a thief. I think I can steal the guard's key next time. But…I don't know where I could go or where I could hide in this place. Just keep it in mind for-"

One of the two men who escorted Bellamy to the prison took a few steps closer and spoke up. "What are you guys doing, hugging? That's enough! It's time to go."

The other escort muttered, "Why'd anyone want to visit a god-forsaken queer? You people are disgusting."

Bellamy ignored them. "I promise, we'll win the chess game," he whispered to Miller. It wasn't the smoothest wording but he wanted to remind Miller of the fact that they were fighting for him.

* * *

Bellamy rubbed the back of Clarke's neck and shoulders. His firm hands worked wonders at getting the knots out.

"I take it the prison was as bad as my mom says?" Clarke asked Bellamy. They were inside his room, updating each other on the day's events.

"You gotta see it to believe it," Bellamy answered. "Well, except you can hardly see anything since it's pitch dark in there."

Bellamy's hands stopped for a moment, and Clarke turned to look at him. "You okay?" she asked.

"Just got hit by a memory," Bellamy said, his voice distant and bruised. "Mount Weather. Hanging upside down in my underwear as they stuck me like a pin cushion. And then being cooped up in one of their cages, a cage that wasn't even fit for an animal." He shuddered. His conversation with Miller had, of course, prompted thoughts of Mount Weather.

He resumed rubbing Clarke's neck and shoulders. "I know what it's like to be confined, and be treated like you're subhuman," he continued. "Makes me feel sick to my stomach to think of Miller and Jackson in those cells." His stomach had nearly rejected his dinner as soon as he'd entered the prison area.

"You're so brave, Bellamy," Clarke murmured. "What you did at Mount Weather…."

"Hey, I appreciate it, but come on. You've been braver than me each step of the way."

"I wish we'd been together since the start," Clarke piped up. "I mean -" she broke off, "I mean, I know we were there for each other in a way. But not like this."

"Yeah, I didn't used to give you neck massages," Bellamy said, a genuine smile almost making an appearance on his face. "I was too busy calling you 'Princess'."

"Speaking of neck massages, come on. It's your turn. We've both had a miserable day."

"Just another minute. I still feel a ton of knots. Didn't I just do this last week?" he joked.

"We both have more knots than a lifetime of massages will ever get rid of," Clarke quipped wryly.

Bellamy was quiet for several moments. He needed to replay their last discussion with Kane. "So Kane had no luck one-on-one with Cadogan. Then…tomorrow's the day."

"Right," Clarke said. She, too, wanted to recount the situation. "There's no use talking to the elders about this anymore; they won't budge till we show them we're serious. We're the good guys here," she said firmly. "At least that is crystal clear now. So tomorrow…we start showing the Second Dawn idiots what we can do."

"It'll feel good," Bellamy said, "for us to make some things happen here."

Clarke started to grin as she rose from her chair. She stepped close to Bellamy and put her hands on his chest. "It **will** feel good," she said, her eyes glinting. "And I can make you feel good right now," she added in a sultry voice. One of her hands stroked his cheek. It was warm and stubbly.

"I, uh, I won't say no to that," Bellamy stammered. He hadn't expected the evening to go in this direction, but suddenly both his body and mind latched onto it. He adored and desired her so much that it never took much to get him to switch gears. He pulled Clarke into a sensuous kiss.

Their lovemaking took on a certain urgency that night. They'd had five months of stability and quiet. But tomorrow, they'd be jolted back into conflict and a potential battle – they would likely face the same type of chaos they'd fought since the first day the dropship had landed on the planet.

Clarke and Bellamy were determined to have one more night of enjoying each other's bodies and physically expressing their love for each other. They hadn't yet spoken the words to each other, but they could use their bodies to demonstrate their love.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten – Five Months Since Moving to the Bunker**

The plan went into action promptly at 0400 hours the next morning. The group had painstakingly put the plan together, knowing it was a risk – while also knowing they couldn't leave their people in those repugnant prison cells any longer.

Clarke was tired and yet buzzing with energy. She and Bellamy had stayed up late last night enjoying each other's presence and touch, knowing that today brought with it untold levels of uncertainty and danger, and wanting to hold onto the last few moments of peace they still had left. But now it was time for what was sure to be conflict and danger, and Clarke's insides hummed with a feeling of dread mixed with a slight feeling of excitement. She would never welcome fighting or battle, knowing all too well the physical and emotional toll they took each time. Yet she knew it was necessary here and now. And she knew that without a doubt, she and her people were the good guys here. That thought provided untold comfort to her now.

Clarke and Bellamy had risen promptly at the scheduled time and met Monty, Harper, Murphy, and Emori in the corridor. Wordlessly, the group made their way to the hidden armory. Monty's skills at unlocking doors were put to the test as the tool as the minutes sped by and the door didn't budget. Clarke kept scanning the hallway, hoping they wouldn't be discovered.

"What's taking so long?" Murphy hissed impatiently, and Clarke couldn't help but feel some of the anxiety in his tone stirring in her own chest. Despite the fact that she knew Monty was no doubt doing his best.

"I wish Miller was here," Monty sighed in frustration. "He was always better at this than me. He's the one who picked all the locks at Mount Weather."

"You got this, Monty," Harper encouraged, giving a supportive squeeze to his arm.

The encouragement seemed to work as less than a minute later Monty finally succeeded in picking the lock, and the group entered the armory. The room was not vast by any means, but it was well-stocked and like everywhere inside the bunker, quite orderly.

"Swords," Bellamy noted as he took stock of the weaponry, the undeniable hint of excitement in his voice causing Clarke to smile. "Octavia will love that," he added fondly, and Clarke nodded and moved to join him.

"Everyone ready with their assignments?" Clarke asked, as the group armed itself. When everyone answered in the affirmative or nodded, Clarke turned to Harper and Emori. "Hurry. Your part will take a while."

Harper and Emori had been tasked with hiding the guns and ammunition in a few pre-determined spots throughout the bunker. Once they were finished with that, the rest of their job would be to patrol the bunker and ensure no trouble from any Second Dawn members who weren't inside their rooms when the doors were locked. As the two set out, Clarke heard Harper say to Emori, 'I like working with you' and Emori respond, 'You're not so bad yourself.'

Clarke turned to the others remaining. "Onto the next step."

* * *

The next phase for Bellamy was to accompany Monty and Raven to engineering. An engineer named Michael could often be found inside engineering at night. The bunker's systems tended to run well without incident and didn't need 24/7 monitoring, but Michael was diligent and enjoyed being inside engineering at all hours, "just keeping an eye on my machines," as he would tell anyone who would listen.

So the group was ready for him. They knew Michael would be surprised to see Raven and Monty this early – and he'd be even more shocked to see Bellamy, given that Bellamy hadn't set foot inside engineering since his initial tour back when Skaikru first moved in.

"Monty! Raven!" the engineer enthusiastically greeted with a smile, as soon as the doors slid aside. He was holding a mug of tea. Michael then spotted Bellamy, and it was clear he began to sense that something was amiss. "What are you doing in engineering so early? And why is he-"

As Michael spoke, Bellamy strode up to him, grabbed him, and placed a cloth over his mouth. The cloth had been doused with a chemical compound, courtesy of Abby. Michael barely struggled before he fell unconscious, his mug crashing and breaking as Bellamy caught his body and gently laid Michael down.

Meanwhile, Raven and Monty did a quick sweep of engineering to ensure they were alone. They then turned towards the computers.

"Okay," Raven said. "Let's get to work."

John Cadogan tended to rise early. His father and grandfather had both done the same, and instilled it in him as a good habit. The habit was also sometimes praised during religious services. Also, Cadogan tended to drink a lot of tea, so his bladder frequently woke him up as well.

As leader of the Second Dawn elders, Cadogan (and his wife) had a larger room than most. They had their own private bathroom too, but for reasons Cadogan could never explain, he tended to use the group bathroom down the hall, same as everyone else.

Just as he began to exit the bathroom, he heard a loud creak followed by a firm thud. He scrambled down the hallway, and his eyes confirmed what his ears had heard. The large blast doors at the end of the corridor had been sealed. `A glitch in the system?' he wondered. 'But Michael never lets anything like that happen.'

* * *

Cadogan shook his head and the last remaining grogginess from his sleep away. Skaikru. Their failed negotiations had to be the explanation for this. His heart began to pound as the enormity of the situation dawned on him. There was no way out of this wing of the bunker. If this wing was sealed, then surely Skaikru had found a way to seal all of the Second Dawn wings. Cadogan felt light-headed. Had they also sealed the hydrofarm and the supply rooms?

_Damn you, Skaikru! Why did I ever let you in here?_

He and the other elders had had good reasons, of course. Their population had been on a slow but steady decline for decades. There were several young people whose only marriage options at this point were their cousins, and that was alarming. The problem would only be worse for the next generation. The Second Dawn needed genetic diversity. And although Skaikru had been an unknown quantity, Cadogan was able to determine pretty quickly that they were not like the grounders, their leaders and people far more civilized and reasonable than those savages. He had hoped Skaikru would be more pliable, more similar to the Second Dawn members. There was the chance that, unlike the grounders who were so set in their ways, Skaikru could eventually - over a few years or maybe a few decades - meld with the Second Dawn.

Not today, apparently.

Cadogan swiftly returned to his room, got dressed, and walked up to the blast door to inspect it. He knew there was little use as once the doors were down like this, they weren't going to budge. And then the hallway intercom buzzed.

"It's Chancellor Kane and Clarke Griffin. We're on the other side of the blast door and we want to talk to John Cadogan."

Cadogan took a breath. "I'm right here," he said, pressing the button to reply and making sure he kept his voice even. "Okay. Let's talk."

* * *

"All the doors are holding. Including ours."

Monty and Raven were standing next to each other and looking at the same screens, but it never hurt to confirm what one's eyes saw. Although they didn't have radios or video feeds, the computer screens they looked at confirmed that "The Door Plan" (they never did come up with a better name) was working exactly as they had set it up.

"Good," Raven responded to Monty's words. All the wings that contained the Second Dawn members' bunks were sealed, along with the hydrofarm. There would be no bypassing them without the controls in engineering.

Harper and Emori jogged up to engineering and knocked on the door. Raven and Monty stood on the other side of it and asked them for their report.

"Okay," Harper panted, awkwardly holding onto her gun. Raven looked at her, knowing that Harper hoped to someday never have to pick up a gun again. "No one's in the hydrofarm. Three old people were in the great hall. Praying. They're harmless. They agreed to stay put and not cause trouble. Didn't see anyone else."

"Our people are still in place. And Clarke and Kane are talking to Cadogan now," Emori added.

"Thanks for the update," Raven said. "Everything's holding out here too."

"We'll get back to patrolling then," Harper said. With that, the two women left.

Monty and Raven walked back to their monitors. The readouts were the same as they were a minute ago. Monty paced the room, and Raven followed suit, the irritating pain in her leg forcing her to stop just a few minutes later. She sighed in resignation and moved to sit in a chair in front of the monitors, rubbing the top of her thigh and toying with her ponytail.

Raven glanced at the time. It was 0444 hours. Most of the Second Dawn people were probably still asleep, though she also knew they had plenty of early birds. Once when she'd actually tried to pay attention during religious services, she remembered the preacher praising the idea of going to bed and rising early. Which probably explained why Cadogan was already up and talking with Kane and Clarke.

Time continued to creep by. and the monitors showed no changes. All of the doors that Raven and Monty had sealed remained that way, and Harper and Emori's report had been good. Raven resumed playing with her ponytail and idly thought of how much she liked the way the engineering room was organized. It was the only good thing she could think to say about the Second Dawn. A quote popped into her head: 'A place for everything and everything in its place' – Sinclair had used that phrase a few times and it always stuck with Raven. Sure enough, she felt a stab of pain in her chest when thinking of Sinclair's loss. But with the mission at hand she forced herself to focus and push the feeling aside, back onto the heaping pile of other painful memories she'd rather forget.

Raven drummed her fingers on the table as she glanced over the screens again, checking that everything was still in order. Seconds later, she heard gunshots and instantly bolted up out of her chair. The sound of gunshots continued getting closer rapidly, and Raven was frozen in panic as the door to engineering was kicked open.

"Put your hands up and back away from the control panel!"

It was Andrew Cadogan, along with three other young men. Skaikru's concerns about Second Dawn members possibly storing guns in places other than the armory had been prophetic. The armed young men had shot out the locks to the door and kicked it open.

"Okay," Monty said calmly, backing away slowly with his arms up. "No problem."

"Right," Raven said, following Monty's lead and feeling her earlier panic ease at his calmness. She'd been through worse situations before. "So, uh, hey where did you guys come from?" she asked, attempting to stall them. "We thought we sealed all the wings with your rooms."

Andrew gave Raven a look of disgust but answered her question anyway. "We were in the rec room. Guess you didn't plan for everything, did you?" he sneered.

Raven silently cursed out Andrew and wanted to put him in his place, but upon Monty's look of caution she held herself back.

Andrew then turned to one of his men. "Go get Robert," he said, referring to the Second Dawn's best engineer. "He can get all the doors back open fast." He glanced at the nighttime engineer Michael, laying on the floor where Bellamy had put him under. Some of the tea he'd spilled now stained his pants. "Did you kill him?" he spat out.

"He's fine," Raven said, her tone showing no fear, just irritation. "He's just asleep. But uh…how exactly will you get Robert? Unless he also wasn't inside his room when we shut all the doors."

Andrew exchanged worried looks with his men, and Raven couldn't help but quirk her lips into a smile at having outsmarted them. They were just now realizing that she was right, and despite the fact that she was standing there with her arms up and four guns trained on her, she had to admit she felt pretty good.

"There **were** three of your people in the great hall," Monty added with a slight grin. "But none of them are engineers."

Andrew took a step closer to Monty. "Then **you** open the doors!" he commanded. "Do it or I shoot!"

"Except if you shoot either one of us," Raven began smartly, "we're not going to cooperate. And then you'll never get those doors open."

"Oh, we can make you cooperate," Andrew sneered. "We can find a few ways if we have to." He turned to one of his men. "Go get a pair of pliers! We can start pulling their fingernails and toenails off." He took a step closer to Raven and openly leered at her chest. "Or other body parts."

Revulsion was the only thing Raven felt at this point. She fixed Andrew with a death stare and toyed with the idea of making him pay once the tables were turned – as she knew they soon would be. The group had planned for this.

"Your supply rooms are cut off too though," Monty cut in. "Just so you know."

And then suddenly, noises were heard behind them. Bellamy, Murphy, Octavia, and Sergeant Miller rushed into engineering. Octavia was armed with a sword, the others with guns.

"Put your weapons down!" Bellamy commanded, his gun trained on Andrew. "Now."

Andrew hesitated, and Bellamy shot a bullet into the ceiling. Recoiling at the warning shot, Andrew and his men set their guns down in surrender.

"Hands in the air!" Sergeant Miller commanded, and the Second Dawn men obeyed.

"Took you long enough," Raven said to her team, a small smile on her face.

"Let's tie these guys up," Bellamy said, ignoring Raven's comment for now.

"How many of your people are out right now?" Octavia asked Andrew as she bound his wrists with rope and appeared to thoroughly enjoy it.

"How the hell should I know?" Andrew shot back.

Now that the situation inside engineering was back under control, Sergeant Miller turned towards the door. "We should get back to patrolling. Murphy, come wi—"

In the next instant, bullets shot out. Another Second Dawn man holding a gun charged into engineering, yelling "Damn you, Skaikru!" He fired bullets at the Sergeant and Murphy and the older man went down instantly.

Bellamy reacted quickly and shot the intruder in the leg. He fell to the ground with a thud.

Several things happened simultaneously. Raven yelled at Bellamy, "I thought you had this place locked down!" as Monty rushed up to the Sergeant and Murphy, Octavia following him. Murphy let out a string of curse words as he writhed on the floor.

"He's dead," Monty said, crouching over the Sergeant. "Shot right through the temple." Bellamy and Raven gasped at the gruesome sight, the Sergeant's brains and blood splattered on the floor.

"You'll be fine," Octavia said, addressing Murphy who was still cussing. "He got you in the arm."

Bellamy looked around the room. "Octavia, take Murphy to med bay." As part of their plan, Abby, Niylah, and Niylah's girlfriend Anne were stationed inside med bay, waiting in case of casualties. "I'll get back to patrolling."

Bellamy looked at Raven and Monty. "You two okay?"

"Yeah, never better," Raven said sarcastically.

Monty was still crouched next to the Sergeant's body. He and the others had already seen so much death – Monty himself had been forced to kill his own mother, and he still had nightmares over it - but that didn't make this any easier. Five months of peace had lulled them a bit, almost making them forget a world where bodies lay sprawled, staining the floor red. "Damn it," Monty breathed. "I liked him. And Miller's gonna…"

"I know," Bellamy said firmly, squatting down beside Monty. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "We all liked him. But we've gotta stay focused until this is over. Best thing we can do for the Sergeant now is get his son the hell out of that prison."

Monty nodded, and he and Bellamy rose to their feet again.

"I hope their negotiations are wrapping up soon," Raven concluded. "Come on, Kane and Clarke," she hissed into the air.

* * *

Clarke breathed a sigh of relief. There were no more surprise visits from members of the Second Dawn, and Skaikru truly had the bunker locked down now.

And John Cadogan realized it. With all of his people either incapacitated like Andrew or locked inside the wings with their quarters, he knew he was out of options. (Several people inside his wing were already in a full panic at the thought of not having breakfast on time). So he negotiated with Kane and Clarke. It had been decided last night that Jaha would stay out of this, thus enabling Kane and Jaha to later on play bad cop/good cop when needed. Having one of Skaikru's leaders seemingly uninvolved in this conflict would likely be beneficial to Skaikru.

First, Cadogan told Kane and Clarke that yes, indeed, 52 years ago, a group of twelve people had been allowed to leave this bunker and set out for another bunker the Second Dawn had built but never occupied. The Second Dawn referred to them, and their bunker, as The Unworthy. "They were like your people," Cadogan said, his tone emotionless. "Degenerates. Uppity women, people who had perverted sexual relations with members of the same sex, that sort of thing. Leadership back then was…softer and weaker. They wanted to avoid executions." He confirmed that the Unworthy had been permitted to leave with supplies. The Second Dawn had no external communications systems, and no idea if the Unworthy had ever reached the other bunker. They truly didn't care, viewing the Unworthy as dead to them.

Then Kane and Clarke discussed terms with Cadogan. Just as when Skaikru had first entered the bunker, and when Jasper Jordan's sentencing was being worked out, a binding document was created. Cadogan had honored both binding contracts before, so Kane felt certain he'd follow this one too.

The document spelled out all the terms. First, Miller and Jackson would be freed immediately. Secondly, there would be no retaliation against Skaikru for today's events. The document would acknowledge that today's events were necessary to free "unjustly imprisoned members of Skaikru since all attempts at diplomacy with the Second Dawn had failed. Additionally, no Second Dawn members were seriously wounded today, whereas one member of Skaikru was mercilessly shot and killed." Third, a small group of Skaikru would be permitted to depart – with ample supplies – for the Unworthy bunker. Fourth, there would be no more requests or insistences that any members of Skaikru follow Second Dawn dress codes. And fifth, Skaikru members would be allowed to partake in consensual sexual activity inside their rooms without any penalties or interference from the Second Dawn.

The binding document was signed. This time, Clarke's signature would join Kane's to signify her place as a Skaikru leader.

Even though she knew that she was almost certainly going to join the group leaving the bunker.

Bellamy found Clarke in the chaos, as he always did. He rushed up to her. "We did it," he breathed. He and Clarke had both been filled in on the key events.

She pulled him into a tight hug. "We won for now." As Clarke grasped him, she felt a somewhat unfamiliar sensation squeezing her heart. During the negotiations with Cadogan, Clarke had fought to remain razor-focused on the task at hand, and had mostly succeeded. But now holding Bellamy, she thought of what she could have lost. Sergeant Miller had been fatally wounded today – and it easily could have been Bellamy instead. The thought made Clarke feel vaguely nauseated and panicked. Nothing she had experienced today had seriously distressed her until now, with the thought of potentially losing him.

"I can't breathe," Bellamy joked at Clarke's tight grip.

"Sorry," she said, taking a step back. "I'm just so glad you're alright." She looked at his face and placed her hands on his shoulders. "H-how are you?"

"Doing okay," he responded. "It always feels a little weird when we survive something like this, and win. But…you heard what happened to Sergeant Miller, right?"

"I heard," Clarke said, looking down. "I feel horrible for Miller." She swallowed before meeting Bellamy's eyes. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Same. And, uh, speaking of Miller…" At that moment, Monty and Harper approached Clarke and Bellamy.

"They gave us the keys to the prison," Harper said, the key ring jangling in her hands. "Let's go get our people."

"Yeah," Bellamy said. "I'll – I'll tell Miller," he offered.

Clarke looked at the expression on Bellamy's face and her heart again sank. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "It will be good if he hears it from you. He trusts you." She took a breath. "It will be okay," she reassured him.

He nodded, though his eyes still looked agonized. Clarke's desire to solve problems compelled her to ask, "Is he a hugger? Maybe just hug him. That might be more important than any words you say."

Bellamy gave her a half-smile. "Don't know on the hugging thing. It's worth a try."

* * *

Miller sat inside his cell, oblivious to the activity inside the bunker. He had been dozing on and off for hours, courtesy of the drugs from Abby. He would wrap the blanket around himself and slump on his ledge, propped up against the wall. He'd lose consciousness for a few minutes or hours, then just be jolted awake either by physical discomfort or mental fears. He'd try to find another position to sleep in and drift off for a bit longer. His mind kept playing out every horrid scenario. When he'd been chained to the wall in Mount Weather, he'd used a few mind tricks to try to derail the train of terrifying thoughts. But it never worked for more than a few minutes.

And then suddenly, footsteps and the door to his cell creaking open.

It was Bellamy! And Bellamy alone. No Second Dawn men behind him.

"You're free," Bellamy said. "I came to get you out of here. Do you need help?"

Although he'd hoped deep down that this moment was coming soon, Miller still nearly leapt to his feet in jubilation. But an instant later, he sensed that something was wrong. Despite the dulling effects of the drugs, his mind was sharp enough to notice that Bellamy didn't seem happy enough right now. Miller's eyes had been slowly adjusting to the influx of more light, but he still sensed something was off.

He followed Bellamy out of the cell. "For real, I'm free?" he asked. His throat dry as he forced a gulp. "Is Jackson okay?"

"He's fine as far as I know. Harper's getting him out right now."

Again Miller sensed something was wrong. Bellamy wasn't looking at him. Instead he walked just a few paces ahead of him, leading him back through the corridor that would get them out of the prison area. The light in the corridor was dim compared to the rest of the bunker, but Miller could still see that Bellamy's gait was off just a bit too, perhaps not as rapid or as assured as it should be.

Miller's befuddled mind fought with itself. _`Should I ask him what happened and how we got free? Or ask him to take me right to Jackson now? Or ask him what's wrong?'_

Bellamy suddenly stopped and turned around to face him. As Miller squinted, still adjusting to the light, he took in Bellamy for a minute. Pain. There was agony and despair written all over Bellamy's face.

"What's wrong?" Miller asked. "Did something happen to Clarke? Or Octavia?"

"No. They're fine." Bellamy swallowed. He put his hand on Miller's shoulder. "I-I have to tell you something Your father was shot during the battle to get you out. He didn't make it."

Miller heard the words. His brain wanted to immediately reject them. _'Maybe it's the sedatives. They haven't worn off. This is all just a dream.' _He just stood facing Bellamy, not sure what to do. He felt Bellamy put his arms around him and draw him into a hug. He heard Bellamy say more words such as how sorry he was.

And then there were footsteps. Harper had gotten Jackson out of his cell, and they were now standing before them. She had apparently told Jackson the news too, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"I'm so sorry Nate," Jackson said, moving as fast as he could. Bellamy stepped back so Jackson could embrace Miller. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," Jackson repeated, squeezing his partner tightly.

Miller stood there, accepting the embrace. Although he felt a bit light-headed, he was starting to realize that this was no mere nightmare. Could this be real? Would he truly never see father again? Never speak with him again, never again see the kind, accepting look in his eyes?

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven - Five months (and a few days) since moving to the bunker**

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Abby asked Clarke the question as the two women sat together inside Abby and Kane's room. Abby's voice was soft and tender, like a fresh wound, one that wouldn't be mortal but would cause untold pain.

Since the signing of the binding contract with Cadogan, it had been a hectic three days. Skaikru and the Second Dawn had to prepare for several members of Skaikru leaving, which meant going over countless lists of which exact supplies would be going with them. Clarke and the others were glad that the rovers and hazmat suits were Skaikru's property, and thus didn't need to be haggled over.

This afternoon, Clarke and Abby had decided to follow the Second Dawn's custom of afternoon tea just to give themselves a break. They sat together inside Abby's room. It was a welcome respite for Clarke, who felt like she'd spent the last 72 hours doing nothing but going over lists with Abby, Raven, Monty, and Bellamy as various Second Dawn elders pestered them for updates.

"You know all the reasons why I have to go, Mom," Clarke said quietly, answering her mother's previous question as she held a mug in her hands. Its warmth had already started to dissipate.

"I know," Abby said, a look of understanding her eyes. "You were born to be a leader, Clarke. And the people who are leaving are going to need you now more than ever."

Clarke nodded, looking at the pride and pain on her mother's face. There were other reasons for Clarke to leave too, beyond her leadership skills. Although the Second Dawn had promised to allow Skaikru the privacy of their own bedrooms, Clarke still felt that as "a queer" (as the Second Dawn would label her, if they knew), life would be better away from here. What if one of the elders somehow found out that she'd once been Lexa's lover? But Clarke's main reason for leaving was Bellamy. Octavia had wanted to leave this place the moment she'd set foot inside, and now she had the chance to. That meant that Bellamy would go with her. There was no way that Clarke and Bellamy weren't remaining together.

But that also meant Clarke would need to say farewell to her mother for now. Kane was staying here as Skaikru chancellor, and Abby was needed in med bay - especially with Jackson leaving, and Dr. Jones mostly retired at this point. Abby would also need to do as she'd done with Jackson years ago and begin training a new doctor.

"But once again, I'm staying somewhere and sending you out into the unknown," Abby added, her voice sounding far away as she remembered the events on the Ark.

Clarke knew that her mother wasn't a crier - and wasn't about to become one now. But the look on Abby's face was so intensely sad that Clarke reached for something optimistic to say.

"We survived that. So we'll survive this too." Clarke gave a soft laugh. "And I can certainly say that I've learned a lifetime's worth since I went down with the rest of the 100!" She added, "Once the planet is habitable again, you know we'll come right back here and get you."

Abby let out a resigned sigh and a small nod, "I know you will."

The two women then sat in silence, drinking their tea. The idea of leaving her mother cut at Clarke's heart, leaving her with fear and sadness. But when she could put that aside, a small part of her was energized. The group leaving the bunker was small, but she would be leading them into something new – and she was determined to be the best leader she could be.

And leadership would **not**, as Jaha had once said, be a lonely pursuit. She had Bellamy by her side.

"I have faith in you, Clarke. We **will** meet again," Abby said into the silence.

But there was no denying it. A lot could happen in four and a half years, and no one knew what awaited Clarke and the others when they set foot outside the bunker.

* * *

Following her breather with Abby, Clarke headed down the corridor towards her room. It now was officially her and Bellamy's room, since Miller had been able to move out and share Jackson's room. Clarke had a couple of hours before the funeral service but wanted to take a look through her meager belongings for the most appropriate outfit to wear.

On her way to her room, Clarke ran into Monty and Harper. The couple was holding hands and walking slowly down the hallway.

"Hey," Clarke said.

"Hey," Monty and Harper replied simultaneously. Monty then added, "We're still talking after the service about the algae farm, right? We have that quirk with the generator to go over." He usually had an enthusiasm to his voice when he spoke of the algae farm, but today his voice was tinged with sadness – as it had been ever since the Second Dawn had made their 'request' of him.

"Yeah, definitely," Clarke replied. She took a step closer. "How are you two holding up?"

Their answers were polite and noncommittal. Clarke resumed her steps towards her room, mulling over the agreement with the Second Dawn as it related to Monty and Harper. She didn't like it. Raven, of course, was leaving for the Unworthy bunker – that was non-negotiable. Monty and Harper had wanted to do the same, but there were two roadblocks in their way.

One was Jasper Jordan, who was still suffering from depression and had no desire to leave the Second Dawn bunker. He wasn't happy here, but he knew well enough that he'd be less happy at the Unworthy bunker given that it was an utterly unknown quantity.

The other problem was the Second Dawn elders themselves. Despite Cadogan's earlier boasting to Kane about their engineers having learned so much during the past five months, the elders wanted a Skaikru engineer to remain. True, Jaha had been an engineer but he'd focused on leadership duties here. Monty – not Jaha - was the one who the Second Dawn viewed as the most competent engineer and they wanted him to stay. They weren't going to give him up, at least not permanently. But Clarke needed Monty at the Unworthy bunker to set up the hydrofarm and the algae farm. So a compromise was reached during negotiations with the elders. Monty would initially head out for the Unworthy bunker, but would return to the Second Dawn once he was confident that the farms were running smoothly. And to ensure his return, Harper would remain here as "collateral".

Clarke and Kane repeatedly asked Monty if he wanted to fight that stipulation, but in the end his refusal to do so always came back to Jasper. Jasper had no one else to look out for him and was afraid to take a chance on the unknown - and as his best friend, Monty didn't want to abandon him and neither did Harper. The three had become a tight knit group after their experiences in Mount Weather, and Clarke understood and respected the level of loyalty they had for one another. So, Monty would return to the Second Dawn bunker to be reunited with Harper and Jasper once the farms were up and running, and that was that.

* * *

Jackson stopped in med bay to check on a patient who had requested him, an elderly Second Dawn man named William. Jackson took a deep breath as he entered William's recovery room. 'Does he know that I was arrested?' Jackson wondered. 'All of Skaikru knows everything – we're masters at gossip. Do the Second Dawn people talk amongst themselves the way we do?' He shook his head. If they did, the man wouldn't have requested Jackson.

"How are you today, William?" Jackson asked, stepping towards the bed.

The two men casually talked as Jackson checked William's bandages and charts. William seemed the same as always, chatty and upbeat. It was a bit fascinating, Jackson thought, to work with someone William's age. The Ark had had its share of senior citizens, but they had been a rarity. Jackson hadn't seen too many older people during the limited time he'd spent with grounders either. He wished he could study more on the subject of geriatrics.

As he finished writing a few notes on his chart, Jackson promised William he'd check back in on him later that day.

"I know all about you, son," William said, a smile of self-satisfaction on his face. "Just wanted to let you know that it doesn't bother me at all. I don't have a problem with it."

Jackson stood motionless and quiet for a few seconds. He'd never heard sentiments like these before and was unsure how to respond. He muttered a quick thank you before leaving the man's room.

"Jackson, good, you're here," Abby said, as soon as he re-entered med bay's main area. She went up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "How are you? Are you ready for the service today?"

Jackson nodded. "It won't be easy but – well, nothing ever is," he cracked an awkward smile at his own words. His interaction with William still left him feeling confused, but now with the reminder of the funeral looming, it made the interaction with William pale in comparison. He took his own advice and took in a deep breath. "It's so nice to be, uh, out here," he said, tilting his head up. "Out of the darkness of that horrible cell. Thank you again for-"

Abby waved his concern away. "There's no need to thank me Jackson, I promised your mother I would keep you safe. And I meant it. Though most of the credit has to go to the others involved. I just mixed the compound Bellamy used - and treated John Murphy's injury." She paused. "His arm is going to be out of commission for a while though."

"Yeah. Thank goodness it wasn't worse."

Abby nodded and looked around med bay. William was their only current patient, as Murphy had insisted upon leaving as soon as he'd been cleared to do so.

Jackson followed her gaze and visually surveyed the room. "I'll miss working here. When else have we worked in a med bay that was so well-stocked and had everything we needed?" He spoke the words and then reflexively gulped. He turned to glance Abby and knew she could easily see through what he was saying.

It wasn't really med bay that Jackson was going to miss.

"I'll miss you too, Eric," Abby said sofly.

His ears twitched at the mention of his first name. His mother had been the last person who ever really used it. Even his own lover called him "Jacks" instead of using his first name.

"I never told you this," Abby continued, "but training you has been one of my proudest achievements."

Jackson's disbelief almost made him want to interrupt. Surely Abby had at least a hundred better accomplishments – becoming chancellor, putting Jaha's intestines back together and saving his life before the Ark went down, raising Clarke Griffin and training her so that she was a doctor in all but name. But he closed his mouth. He understood what Abby was trying to say.

"Now I'll have to train someone else," Abby continued. Both Skaikru and the Second Dawn had a couple of good candidates – young people with an aptitude for math and science and a desire to learn medicine. Once Jackson departed, Abby would be sitting down with each candidate to decide whom she would train. "But they won't be as good as you. And I mean **good** in every sense of the word."

This time Jackson did have to swallow back against the lump that was lodged inside his throat. The group leaving for the Unworthy bunker wasn't leaving just yet, so part of him wondered why Abby was doing this now. But he realized it made sense. Med bay was quiet now. The funeral was later today. And more importantly, Abby would have a far more wrenching farewell soon enough when she'd have to say goodbye to her own daughter. Maybe, Jackson mused, conversations like this helped Abby mentally prepare for it.

"Thank you, Abby," Jackson stammered. "I wish I had the words to tell you how grateful I am to you. How important you are to me."

Abby pulled Jackson into a hug, one which he warmly accepted and returned.

"Well, come on," Abby said, stepping out of the hug. "Back to making lists of which items are staying and which are going. We have a lot to get done before the funeral."

The funeral. That was going to be rough. Perhaps, Jackson thought, Abby was doing him a kindness by giving him something else to focus on in the meantime.

* * *

Bellamy soon joined Clarke inside their room. It was almost time to go to the funeral. He sorted through the clothes folded neatly on his shelves and held up a different pair of trousers. He decided it was better than the pair he usually wore.

"One great thing about living here," Bellamy began. "Clean clothes."

"Yeah," Clarke said, sitting on the bed, watching him change. "No more picking through a pile of clothes and just hoping for **one** item that's not filthy."

He laughed at her comment, enjoying the shared moment. The scenario she described had been all too familiar to both of them. "Pretty soon we'll be back to roughing it though," Bellamy said, sobering up and glancing back at his other apparel on the shelves. "This shirt is fine, right?" he asked, gesturing to the one he was wearing.

Clarke nodded. "It's good. But yeah, you're right – we'll be back to roughing it soon. Unless Raven and Monty are way off with their estimates, the Unworthy bunker wasn't livable. And even if by some chance it was, what's the likelihood that any of the twelve people who left here actually made it – and lived on to have children?" She paused and then said, "I'm pretty sure that bunker will be empty of people when we get there. And," she added with a smile, "empty of washing machines and dryers as well. We'll manage though."

"I get the idea that you're eager to leave," Bellamy said, sitting down next to her.

"I am a bit," she said simply. "I haven't trusted the Second Dawn since the day Jaha first met with them. And after what they did to Miller and Jackson….I'm eager to get the hell out of here."

"I think Octavia's counting down the days and the hours." He reached to hold her hand. "But….I mean, are you okay? It's gonna be hard to leave your mom." He looked down for a second before meeting her eyes. "Sometimes I worry because I haven't heard you talk about it much."

"I'm good, Bellamy," Clarke said straightforwardly. "I haven't talked about it much since the agreement was signed just because we've been so busy."

Her tone, Bellamy felt, suggested a forced casualness. He wasn't sure if it was genuine.

"But sometime, I mean not now, but whenever you're ready...well, I think it would be good for you to talk about it," Bellamy insisted. "Leaving emotions bottled up isn't good. Think about the scene Miller made yesterday."

"Yeah. That wasn't good," Clarke said. She hadn't been there herself but she'd heard every detail.

_It had happened in the cafeteria during lunch. Miller had been sitting at a table with Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy, and Emori. (Clarke was in engineering and Jackson in med bay). Emori was assisting Murphy, since his arm was in a cast. Miller had been laughing and joking, looking like a man who was thrilled to be free (and perhaps in some denial about his father's death)._

_But then Miller had spotted Bryan entering the cafeteria. Bellamy grimaced. He had people tasked with keeping Bryan away from Miller, ensuring they didn't end up on the same work shift. Someone was supposed to be taking meals to Bryan so that he didn't have to make a public appearance at mealtimes. Apparently something had fallen through the cracks._

_"__That son of a bitch piece of shit," Miller growled the second he spotted Bryan. He bolted upright, as his chair loudly scraped backwards. "My dad is dead because of you! You bastard!" he yelled at Bryan._

_As shocked members of the Second Dawn looked down at their plates, Bellamy and the others sprung into action. He ushered Bryan out of the cafeteria while the others ensured Miller didn't take a step._

_"__Hey, hey, man let's talk," Murphy said to Miller, quiet but firm. "I know what it's like to lose a parent."_

_"__Yeah, but not because of your asshole ex!" Miller shot back. _

_Octavia put a grip of steel on Miller's arm, preventing him from going after Bryan. It seemed to have the desired effect as Miller slowly sat back down._

_"__Blame the Second Dawn bastards," Octavia said through clenched teeth. "And in a few days, we'll be out of this place. Forever."_

_Eventually Miller had calmed down and the incident had blown over._

"I guess it's just a reminder that we all need…outlets," Bellamy said, returning to the present moment.

"I know. I'm okay," Clarke tried to reassure, taking a deep breath. "I don't like the idea of not seeing my mom for four and a half years, but she's safe here." With a bemused sniff she added, "Safer here than she's ever been. Let's not forget that the Ark was hanging by a thread. And living up there you always had the risk of getting…."

Clarke abruptly stopped.

"Floated," Bellamy finished for her. It had happened to his mother and her father.

They met each other's eyes. They shared a lot, wordlessly, within that look. A whole lifetime of pain packed into a couple decades. The ache of pointless loss of life. The knowledge that they could talk to each other about it if and when they wanted. The sense of comfort knowing that the offer was there, and that they didn't have to take it if they didn't want to.

* * *

The funeral for Sergeant David Miller was held in the great hall with Kane presiding. He had approached Nathan Miller the day before and softly asked for his approval to conduct the service. During their fight against Pike, Miller and Kane had been close allies, so Miller nodded his ascent.

During daily religious services, by tradition the Second Dawn members sat in the pews upfront, with Skaikru in the rows behind them. Today for the Sergeant's funeral, the attendees were mostly Skaikru. A few Second Dawn members who had started to develop a friendship with the Sergeant sat quietly, clustered together in the back. Part of the agreement with the elders specified that the man who had shot the Sergeant wouldn't be punished. By all appearances, the Second Dawn people acted as if they wanted to forget the entire incident.

Sitting next to Miller in the front row, Jackson craned his head around. It looked like pretty much all 450 members of Skaikru were in attendance. (Bellamy had assured Jackson and Miller that Bryan had been spoken with and would not set foot inside the hall).

As Kane walked towards the pulpit to begin the ceremony, Jackson reached for and held Miller's hand to offer what little comfort he could. Had they been a couple before they'd moved to the bunker, he would've made the move automatically and without any forethought. But five months of life with the Second Dawn had made even this small gesture feel risky. Today, however, Jackson didn't care. And without any comment or even a glance, Miller responded, interlacing his fingers with Jackson's.

It did, Jackson noted, feel strange to be sitting in the front of the great hall. It provided a different perspective on the large room. Jackson had always found the hall a bit off-putting and – as he'd once confided to Miller – secretly preferred the days when he had a plausible excuse to remain in med bay instead of attending services.

The funeral service was brief – Skaikru people were not ones to harp on loss, especially since each and every one of their people had experienced the death of loved ones. In less than a year, their population had gone from 2,200 to 450, and a service like this could almost feel indulgent to some. But the Sergeant had been the first of their people to perish since entering the bunker, and he had been universally loved. And five months of mostly peace had lulled people a bit, so this loss felt especially jarring. There was also the fact that the 760 people living inside the bunker were likely the last of the human race, which made the death of one person feel that much more significant.

Jackson kept looking at Miller during the service. The younger man sat like a stone statue, causing Jackson's heart to lurch. He silently reminded himself that there were many ways to handle bereavement, many stages of grief - and he had to expect Miller to cycle through a lot of different emotions in the weeks and months to come.

Jackson knew that Kane had also asked yesterday whether or not Miller might want to say a few words during the service. Miller had just sat quietly for a few moments before mumbling, "I don't think so." Kane had assured him that he could change his mind if he wanted. Today at the service, a few others aside from Kane got up to speak, but Miller shook his head at Kane's questioning look.

After the funeral, Abby leaned over and said softly, "Jackson, I have med bay covered. Why don't you two take some time together?"

And so, not long afterwards, Jackson and Miller were alone inside their room. Since being released from prison, they'd been given as much reprieve in their duties as possible so they'd been spending a lot of time together inside their room.

"Hey, Nate, do you want to talk?" Jackson asked softly, stepping towards his lover and placing both his hands upon his shoulders. Since their release from prison, Jackson had been careful not to push Miller too much in this area. But he'd heard all about the incident in the cafeteria with Bryan yesterday, making him think that Miller was going to need to open up at some point.

"I'd rather do _this_ instead of talk," Miller replied, pulling Jackson into a kiss that could only be described as hungry. His mouth pressed firmly against Jackson's.

Jackson returned the kiss, and Miller's touches only grew more insistent by the minute, leaving no doubt what he wanted. Jackson was surprised but not at all put off – in fact he was glad to go along with it. For most of Skaikru, sex was something you went for whenever you had a willing partner, a private space, and of course the desire itself. There were few other prohibitions against it –people had so few pleasures in life on the Ark – so it was not considered a breach of morality to indulge in it even after your own parent's funeral.

Afterwards, the couple lay spooned together. Jackson was satisfied, as he always was – from the start Miller had been a passionate and affectionate lover, which Jackson had always appreciated. Yet he wanted to give Miller every opportunity to open up and talk.

"Nate," he began softly, turning his head slightly. "I'm here for you if you need to talk."

"I know," Miller said, yawning. "Gonna sleep now," he whispered, nestled against Jackson's back. He nuzzled the back of Jackson's neck. And although they'd exchanged the words many times before, it was good to hear them again, "Love you," Miller whispered.

"I love you too."

Miller had been sleeping a lot lately, Jackson observed. But he pushed any worries aside. It had been only three days since his father had died. 'I need to be patient,' Jackson thought to himself. 'Patient and supportive.'

* * *

Less than 48 hours after the funeral service, it was time. Lists of supplies had been made, debated, and resolved. Medical, farming, and engineering equipment had been packed up into several rovers. Farewells had been said.

The final roster of those who'd be permanently departing the Second Dawn bunker was comprised of: Clarke, Bellamy, Jackson, Miller, Raven, Octavia, Niylah, and Niylah's girlfriend Anne. Given that Anne was Second Dawn, her desire to leave had caused a stir among her own people, but it was explained away by saying that a trained nurse would be needed at the Unworthy bunker. Many Second Dawn members apparently preferred to believe that rather than the obvious truth.

Monty's arrangement, of course, hadn't changed: he would depart with the group and then later return to the Second Dawn bunker alone, once the Unworthy bunker's hydro- and algae farms were set up.

A few other members of Skaikru had initially expressed a desire to go with the departing group. But the fact remained that Skaikru had only a limited number of rovers, hazmat suits, food, and medical supplies. The group would be mostly living off of dried beans and rice until the farms were fully up and running, and had to only hope that their medical supplies lasted until the medicinal plants were fruitful. There were plenty of other reasons to stay. The binding contract signed with the Second Dawn had given Skaikru the right to privacy in their own rooms, so those whose partners were of the same sex were no longer as frightened as they'd been before. Perhaps when all was said and done, security was more enticing than freedom.

Not so for Clarke and the others who were leaving. They simply didn't trust the Second Dawn. The Second Dawn had tossed two of their people in jail – and killed a third – and could do it again someday, despite what they'd agreed to in their binding contract. Clarke and her group preferred freedom.

Murphy and Emori were staying behind. As much as they had started to bond with Raven and the others, they had no compelling reason to leave. Inside the Second Dawn bunker, Murphy and Emori had their own private room and three meals a day. True, the Second Dawn people didn't like grounders, but Emori generally felt safe once the shock over her hand had dissipated. Children occasionally went up to her and asked her to show them her "weird" hand, but that was about the worst of it. There was also the fact that Murphy's dominant arm had been injured during the fight, and he wouldn't have been able to do much to help get the Unworthy bunker set up anyway.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Not really," Clarke replied. "It was the kind of sleep where you just lose consciousness for a bit but then wake up feeling like shit. That kind of sleep."

Bellamy chuckled at Clarke's words and added, "Had plenty of those nights myself."

Clarke turned over on the bed and stretched. She glanced at the time. Twenty minutes until daily service started, but one of the joys of leaving this place today meant that there wasn't much the Second Dawn could do if Clarke and Bellamy decided to play hooky this morning – which they definitely would be doing. She rubbed her eyes.

"Might as well shower now," she said. "I'm not gonna get any more sleep today."

"Wait," Bellamy implored, rolling onto his side. Clarke lay on her back, and he reached a hand to caress her shoulder and arm. "Today's the day," he began gently. "Should we talk about it?"

Bellamy could only describe the look on Clarke's face as somewhere between touched and annoyed. He smiled tolerantly at her expression. "I know, I know," he continued. "You didn't realize what you were in for by getting into a relationship with a guy who's all heart and no head. You wish—"

Clarke cut him off to make a joke, "Your head is phenomenal."

At that, Bellamy could only burst out laughing, and Clarke followed suit. "Well thank you," Bellamy managed in between laughs, and added, "Yours isn't so bad either."

When they were finished laughing, Clarke turned to Bellamy, her expression sobering up. "I will take your advice. I'm gonna say goodbye to her in private. It makes a lot more sense than doing it while we load stuff into the rovers."

"Yeah." He continued to gaze at her, his expression imploring. "So…how are you feeling?" he asked, and he had to admit to himself that he'd describe the way he asked the question as 'gingerly'.

Clarke took a breath, raising her hands into the air, and lowering them. "Guilty. That's how I feel," she admitted, her voice harsh like a whip.

"What do you mean?" Although Clarke's tone was off-putting, Bellamy was glad that it finally seemed as if a dam might burst.

Clarke turned to face Bellamy, meeting his eyes. "You're an orphan. Raven's an orphan, and she lost the one father-figure she had with Sinclair. Most of Skaikru are orphans. Miller's dad was just gunned down. Monty was forced to kill his own mother. Every single person Niylah knew a year ago is dead and gone. I don't," she said passionately, "get to be upset about saying a temporary goodbye to my mother!"

Bellamy quietly considered her words. He let them hang in the air for a while as she searched her face. "You didn't float my mother," he said quietly. "You didn't shoot Miller's dad and you certainly didn't build nuclear power plants 100 years ago."

Clarke was silent. Bellamy looked at her, unsure as to whether or not she was absorbing his words. He let more time pass. She closed her eyes. "Clarke?" he began gently.

She turned towards him. "Did I ever tell you that I love it when you say my name?"

"You do?" he asked, taken aback by the warmth and love in her voice. They had yet to say the words to each other, and Bellamy idly pondered the fact. He knew that she loved him, just from things like the look on her face now and even what she'd just said about loving when he spoke her name. He was uncertain why the words hadn't come out. Maybe, he wondered, it had to do with the very discussion they were having now. They lived in a world where love was a liability. A weakness, as Lexa had called it. And they were about to set out into the unknown. Speaking the words out loud would open the floodgates to even more risk.

"It just makes me feel good all over," Clarke responded, reaching out a hand to stroke his arm. She had, many times, expressed appreciation for the strength and look of his sculpted arms. In this moment, Bellamy could see that her face bespoke of a desire he knew well. Clarke pulled Bellamy into a kiss, opening her mouth so she could explore his with her tongue.

Bellamy eagerly returned the kiss, only pulling away moments later to breathlessly speak. "Clarke. This isn't a distraction from what we were talking about, is it?" he asked the question with a smile but hoped she knew he was serious too.

"Not at all," she answered, though again she had that playful and hungry look on her face that Bellamy knew – and usually loved. "But we _were_ saying something a minute ago about head, weren't we?" she asked, reaching a hand towards his boxer shorts. "I don't reciprocate enough."

"Clarke," he groaned, knowing he was losing this battle. He decided to surrender this time. She clearly didn't want to talk more right now, and he couldn't force it. And his body continued to just respond to hers. She whispered a few ideas into his ear, and Bellamy soon abandoned rational thought.

* * *

In the end, the Griffin women kept their goodbye short. And as Bellamy suggested, they kept it private – inside Abby's room. Clarke and Abby had spent as much time together during the past few days as possible, and much had already been spoken. Abby had continually reminded Clarke that she was an excellent leader who could handle anything. She had, of course, asked Clarke if she was sure that leaving was the right thing to do. Clarke had always responded that her people needed her, "and besides – Cadogan and his men can't wait for 'contentious women' like Raven, Octavia, and me to be gone!" she'd added with a snort.

"Maybe we can get a comms system up and running," Clarke said, standing before her mother. "And once Monty gets back here, he can try to do it on this end."

"Yes. I hope so. It would be good to be able to talk."

"Yeah." Clarke looked down, "Hey, what did you decide about training another doctor? Did you meet with all the candidates?"

"I did," Abby responded matter-of-factly. "Compared to you and Jackson they all leave a lot to be desired!" She and Clarke shared a laugh over that before she continued, "It's down to two Second Dawn teenagers. James and Elizabeth. Both are brilliant at math and science and both want the job. But James is arrogant and I'm not sure how well he'll take direction from a mere woman as myself." They both smiled at Abby's sarcasm, as she went on, "And unsurprisingly Elizabeth has a serious confidence-gap. She's as meek as a mouse, and a doctor needs to be strong and confident."

"Look," Clarke said, holding her hands out, "if anyone can reign in James's ego or build up Elizabeth's, it's you, Mom. We both know you can do it."

"I know." Abby reached for Clarke's hands and squeezed them. "I just need to pick wisely. And to stop constantly comparing them to you and Jackson."

Mother and daughter stood looking at each other. They had discussed every possible topic the past few days. It was time, and they both knew it.

"This is better than our goodbye on the Ark," Clarke said, forcing a smile. "At least there's that."

"Much better. We _will_ meet again," Abby said firmly. Her voice was steady. Clarke suspected that her mother had done some crying earlier, either alone or maybe with Kane. Abby was presenting a brave face today, and Clarke would do the same.

Without any more preamble, Clarke pulled Abby into a hug, trying to hold back her tears. "Love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Clarke."

* * *

Kane escorted the group to the bunker's entrance. He and Jaha would examine the group's hazmat suits to ensure they were sealed up properly. And Kane would give Clarke what Cadogan had given him: a key that he promised would open the Unworthy bunker.

When Skaikru had first moved in, they'd driven their rovers down into the landing bay. Raven had inspected them a few days ago, and had cleared three rovers for departure. Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia would make the trip inside one. Monty and Raven in the second. Miller, Jackson, Niylah and Anne in the third. Each vehicle was crammed with supplies, and with hope that they had enough to withstand whatever might face them on the outside.

Harper and Jasper had done with Monty what Abby had done with Clarke: said farewells in private. Clarke glanced at Monty. He wasn't letting his pain show right now. "Let's go over our checklist one more time," Monty said tonelessly.

Clarke nodded, and Bellamy stood a few paces away, observing. She'd said to him earlier that it felt like they'd been over each list a hundred times already. But she apparently saw the wisdom in going over it again. So, with the rest of the group standing around, they once again looked at the checklist.

Bellamy turned his attention then to taking a mental inventory of each member of their team. The two who he'd been most worried about seemed fine. Octavia, he knew, had been ready to leave since the moment they'd first moved in. She stood looking at the entrance, wearing the awkward hazmat suit, and perhaps trying to will their final preparations to go faster. Miller surprisingly seemed almost relaxed and happy, like a different man than the one who had yelled at his ex in the cafeteria a couple days ago.

"Any last words of wisdom for us, Kane?" Clarke asked their chancellor, when it was time.

Bellamy stood looking at Kane. The chancellor's words were not what he expected. "I will miss you," Kane said. "Keep each other safe. May we meet again."

Everyone repeated the phrase, "May we meet again." And with that, Kane and Jaha left the bay.

Clarke turned to her team. Bellamy again admired her presence. She looked every bit the leader which, of course, she had been since the day the dropship landed almost a year ago.

"When we leave, we need to keep our caravan tight and start out driving slow. Be ready for anything," Clarke gave the group some parting orders and advice. "We will probably see a lot of disturbing things so you need to mentally prepare for that. Also be ready for the fact that we might reach a point where the rovers can't get through. So be ready for lots of walking. And carrying." She nodded, and then asked, "Any questions?"

"I have one," Bellamy began, simply. "What are we gonna actually call the new bunker? I think we all decided that we gotta stop calling it The Unworthy."

"We should name it after Clarke," Jackson piped up. "As our leader."

Miller then playfully nudged Jackson. "Yeah but what about Bellamy? Isn't he co-leader?" He then made up the appellation, "_Bellarke_. Let's call it Bellarke, for Bellamy and Clarke."

Several guffaws followed his suggestion, along with what became an increasingly awkward silence until Raven cleared her throat. "Yeah, that's great and all but what about the genius engineer who made it possible for you to get out of prison in the first place? Hmmm?" she prompted with the slightly teasing and sarcastic tone that the group all knew and loved.

A few giggles and smirks followed Raven's declaration but no one spoke up with any better ideas.

"Come on," Bellamy said with a bemused smile. "Maybe we'll think of a good name on the way."

* * *

_**Final chapter coming soon! Thank you to everyone who has left a comment.**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve – Hours after leaving the bunker**

With helmets now firmly on, the group left the bunker. Three rovers drove up the ramp, unsure of what exactly they would see once outside. Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia's rover was in the lead position.

"Ouch!" Clarke exclaimed reflexively as soon as the blinding sunlight hit her face. The Second Dawn bunker hadn't been dim, but she had forgotten the feel of a blaze of sunlight. She reached for and pulled down the sun visor to make the glare manageable. She gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Bellamy held the compass and maps that would guide them to the other bunker.

Clarke drove slowly and cautiously. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the landscape. Dust, dirt, and beige were the words that popped into her head. Nothing but dust, dirt, and the color beige. Even the sky was tinged with that color, and the clouds themselves looked muted and dirty. Wind blew steadily but it did not howl.

"No colors," Octavia murmured, echoing Clarke's thoughts. "No trees, nothing green. Nothing but beige."

"This was a forest before," Bellamy added somberly, and Clarke remembered that initial trek that she, Bellamy, and Jaha had made through all the greenery when they'd first found the bunker. It felt like years, instead of months, had passed since then.

"No wildlife," Clarke sad. "No more birds or insects." Her voice was steady as she said the words, but it did not mirror the emotions she felt inside. Clarke would never be described as sentimental. Very few of her people were; sentimentalism brought you nothing but pain or even death. Before leaving the bunker, she'd had a pretty good guess of what the outside would look like. But looking at it now made her feel like someone had shoved dirt in her mouth and buried her alive under layers of sand. The planet was utterly destroyed.

Bellamy wordlessly reached for her hand and held it as she continued to slowly drive forward into the unknown. Though their hands were covered with the bulky gloves, she appreciated the gesture anyway and gave him a squeeze. She remembered how it had been that night, when they first found the Second Dawn bunker and Jaha had met with the elders, leaving Clarke and Bellamy sitting alone inside the rover. He had reached for her hand then too. She and Bellamy had been aligned then and were aligned now. They had faced Praimfaya and made heart-wrenching decisions, and Clarke knew they could handle anything now.

"At least the ground is even," Clarke said after a while of driving. She glanced in the rear view mirror periodically, ensuring the other two rovers remained in sight. "If it stays like this we might be able to drive all the way to the other bunker without a problem."

"The other bunker," Octavia commented. "You mean – what did Miller call it? – _Bellarke_?" she managed the unfamiliar word. All three of the rover's occupants chuckled.

"Please tell me we're not really calling it that," Clarke said flatly, tamping down a smile.

"Wouldn't be fair to Raven," Bellamy added. "She's done as much or more than we have, and we don't have a prayer of making the new place livable without her." He paused, and then said, "What if we ask Raven to name it? Or maybe we suggest that we name the place Sinclair? He was her mentor, we all loved him – and the name honors someone who is dead and gone."

"If we want to honor the dead," Octavia began, "then why not name the bunker after Lincoln? Or David Miller? Or any of our parents for that matter?"

Clarke liked that they were discussing this. If nothing else, it took their minds off of the utter – even _obscene_ – destruction surrounding them. The loss of life that she didn't even want to try to calculate.

"Let's just call it the same name as our old camp," Bellamy suggested. "Arkadia II. Simple, easy, doesn't favor any one person."

"I like that," Clarke said.

Octavia snorted, "I never was part of the Ark or Arkadia." She then shook her head and added, "But I don't really care what we call the place."

A few more moments of silence passed. Dust continued to hit the rover, making lots of loud _plink _sounds. Clarke felt that her mouth was already dry and she wished she could take off her helmet for a swig of water. The group would have to limit the number of water-breaks and anything else that involved removing their helmets. The anti-radiation drugs they'd taken could only do so much.

Clarke replayed Octavia's words and spoke again. "We never decided who will take over as head farmer once Monty leaves," she said.

"Yeah. None of us are botanists or farmers," Bellamy responded.

"Monty is one of a kind for sure," Clarke said with a small smile.

"I can do it," Octavia spoke up.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Bellamy turn to Octavia in surprise. "I'd like to be in charge of something," Octavia explained. "You two are leaders, Raven's the engineer, the others are healers – well, except Miller; I don't know what his thing will be. But we won't have much need for a warrior, and I really want to _own_ something." Octavia spoke the words with as much passion as Clarke had heard in her voice since before Praimfaya.

"I think that's a great idea, O," Bellamy said, and Clarke was touched by the warmth in his voice. "Definitely a change of pace, going from a warrior to a farmer. But if you're up for it, why not?"

"I agree," Clarke added.

* * *

The rover that Miller drove was third in the caravan, and he tightly gripped the steering wheel to ensure that Raven and Monty's vehicle always remained within his visual range. Jackson sat next to Miller up front, while Niylah and Anne sat in the back among the many supplies. Niylah softly but freely sobbed at the destruction that surrounded them. Her helmet prevented her from being able to wipe away her tears or blow her nose. Anne sat next to her silently, an arm around her shoulders.

Miller saw Jackson occasionally crane his head around to look at them, asking them how they were. Miller silently compared the two couples. He and Jackson had both been born on the Ark and had hit the ground for different reasons and at different times. Niylah had been born on the ground, Anne under the ground. And now here all four of them were, in this post-apocalyptic, ugly landscape. Once Niylah stopped crying, Miller could hear her quietly telling Anne what the world had looked like. ("Yes, just like the painting inside your room," Niylah would say. "Bushes and trees – and birds and deer. Streams with blue water. It was all so much more than a painting could show," and a new round of tears began).

"How are you doing, Nate?" Jackson asked quietly. Niylah and Anne's murmurs in the background were somehow both pleasant and disconcerting. Mostly disconcerting, Miller decided.

"You know, just fine," Miller said, trademark smile on his face. "Driving through a post-apocalyptic shit-scape with my boyfriend, leaving the bunker where my dad got shot and killed."

He'd been hoping that Jackson would follow in suit with the flippant tone he'd set. But then he chided himself that he should have known better.

"I was wondering," Jackson began, his voice sounding tentative, "do you want to talk about-"

"No!" Miller responded. Exasperated, he'd lost count at the number of times Jackson had asked him something similar since the day they'd been released from prison.

"I just thought that you -"

"Jackson, stop it!" Miller barked. "Just stop asking me how I feel and if I want to talk about my dad dying. Okay?"

"Sorry," Jackson said quietly. He placed his arms around himself, giving himself a hug.

The rover went very quiet and remained so.

* * *

After several hours, the caravan stopped to take a break so they could attend to physical matters including food and drink. They cautiously removed their helmets, and as the minutes passed by, it seemed that the anti-radiation drugs were working well for now. No one suffered any serious ill-effects though Bellamy seemed to be developing a rash, which Jackson said was likely caused by the anti-radiation drugs and not the radiation itself.

With their helmets briefly off, the group smelled an acrid tang in the air. It was metallic and disquieting. They chewed the sandwiches they'd packed largely in silence. Although they'd been driving through the wasteland for hours, it still was eerie. "A nightmare," Niylah said at one point, out of the blue. "I want my home back." No one had anything comforting to say to that. Her girlfriend Anne seemed to be in a continual state of disbelief and only managed to take a few bites of the food.

The group took their bathroom breaks in pairs, wandering away from the rovers. As Miller and Jackson stepped away for theirs, Miller knew he'd been too harsh with Jackson and wanted to say something. But any words got stuck in his throat like the peanut butter in the sandwich he'd just finished. He told himself that this wasn't the best time anyway. Miller glanced at Jackson a few times, but Jackson barely looked in his direction at all. They returned to the rovers in silence.

"Okay, helmets back on everyone," Clarke said. "Let's keep going. My best guess is that we're five or six hours from Polis."

They piled back inside their rovers and continued on. Slowly the landscape began to change. Eventually rubble joined the omnipresent dust and dirt. Outlines and frames of buildings came into view. An overturned wagon could be spotted in the distance, and if one looked hard enough, one could see human remains near it. They continued to make their way into what had been Polis. Eventually the rubble took over and the ground became rocky and uneven. Several large holes and depressions began to appear, which they had to slowly drive around. No amount of dodging or circuitous routes enabled the rovers to pass. It was time to get out and walk.

"Shouldn't be too long of a walk," Clarke said, as the group gathered what they could. "We're almost there. Stay close and don't wander out of anyone's eyesight." They gathered up their belongings from the rovers, feeling a bit like packhorses. Fortunately they'd brought a cart, enabling them to take the larger, heavier items.

Clarke carefully watched Raven. The engineer's jaw was set firmly. Clarke knew she wouldn't ask for help, but she hoped that Raven would at least take one of the lighter bundles. Clarke exhaled when she saw Raven do just that. Clarke also had a few contingency plans in mind, though she knew Raven wouldn't like any of them.

Bellamy and Miller carried guns at Clarke's orders though the group was aware that it was probably unnecessary. No one could've survived this. As they trod on, the only sounds they heard were the wind and their boots crunching over rubble.

The silence of the group's journey was suddenly broken by a sharp, brutal snap and Monty letting out an agonizing cry of pain as he keeled over, clutching his leg. Clarke took in the scene before her in horror realizing Monty had stepped in a bear trap that had been hidden under a layer of dust and rubble.

Bellamy supported Monty's weight as he watched Clarke take out the key Cadogan had given her. The bunker was exactly where the maps indicated it would be, and they were ready to open the door.

Monty's ankle had, of course, been patched up by Jackson. Bellamy repaired his suit best he could. The group had avoided any other injuries on their way to the bunker – but even one injury was frightening. Monty couldn't walk or stand on his own, and he wouldn't even be able to drive back to the Second Dawn bunker as it was his right ankle that had been wounded. But, Bellamy reminded himself, that was a problem they'd need to deal with later. First they had to get the door to the bunker open.

Raven pointed out something that made her uneasy. "Look where the entrance is," she said. Polis's tower loomed precariously over the bunker entrance, the tower having miraculously survived Praimfaya. "Looks like it could collapse any minute," Raven murmured. She took another glance at Monty, Bellamy observed. He knew that Raven had more than an inkling of what Monty was going through with his injury right now.

"One issue at a time," Clarke said. "We need to get the bunker open. And besides," she added, clutching the key Cadogan had given, "we can't do much about a shaky-looking tower anyway."

Bellamy watched her as she fit the key in and tugged on the hatch. Last time they'd come to an underground bunker, they had expected no one to be inside and instead had encountered the Second Dawn. This time they were again expecting no one to be inside. Would they be surprised again?

The opening gave way, and Bellamy and Clarke peered downwards. He blinked. Nothing but darkness below. "Good thing we brought so many flashlights," he said as he shined his light. A staircase.

The group slowly descended the stairs, with Bellamy awkwardly supporting Monty's weight. He could feel Monty tensing up at certain moments but the younger man mostly kept quiet about his pain.

"Uh, anybody home?" Miller called out, perhaps Bellamy thought, jokingly. The place was silent and dark as a tomb.

Bellamy remembered that Clarke had told him many times that she considered him to be brave. He wasn't sure that he could agree with that, but she would remind him of things he'd done that she admired, such as when he'd infiltrated Mount Weather. Right now his heart was racing in an unpleasant manner, and he felt a droplet of sweat trickle down the side of his face. The bunker was pitch dark and – according to the blueprints - huge. Although he knew it was unlikely that any living soul other than their small group of people were here, the thought of being inside a dark and unknown place was disquieting to say the least. He took a breath and reminded himself of Mount Weather. He had stuck to the task at hand even when he'd been afraid and even when things had gone horribly awry.

And then he turned to look at Clarke. She gave him a reassuring nod. Just having her by his side made him feel safe and comfortable.

"Let's get to engineering," Raven said. "I've got a lot of work to do to get the lights on – not to mention we need to finish sealing this place so we can take these damn suits off."

"Right," Clarke said, shining her flashlight on her blueprints and then looking up. "It should be this way," she pointed.

Bellamy reached to support Monty and they hobbled along with the others.

* * *

The group walked together to engineering, staying in close formation. Jackson would have admitted to anyone that he was terrified and sad, had anyone had asked. Being inside this dark unknown was frightening. Monty had stepped inside a bear trap outside – who knew what dangers lurked inside here?

Jackson heard Anne begin to hyperventilate and so he took a step in her direction, but Niylah was already at her girlfriend's side and murmuring reassuring words. Anne's breathing started to return to normal. Jackson's relief gave way to a wave of jealousy but he brushed it away. 'Yeah, Nathan was short with me earlier today,' he said to himself as he walked with the group. 'I need to be patient with him. I **have** been pestering him too much to open up and talk. He wants space, and it's time I listen to what he wants.'

Jackson's fear and worry eventually evolved into boredom. They reached engineering, and Raven and Monty got to work. The others didn't have much else to do other than strategically hold flashlights and to help Monty stand and move when needed. So that's what Jackson spent his next few hours doing. His arms started to get tired and he desperately wished he could remove his helmet to drink more water, but all his efforts – and everyone else's – needed to be centered on getting Raven and Monty what they needed to do their job.

And they did it. After several hours and more than a few curses from Raven, the bunker achieved life support and lighting.

"You two are incredible," Jackson murmured appreciatively at Raven and Monty. He and the others began to remove their hazmat suits, glad to be rid of them. They reached for their canteens so they could finally quench their thirst.

"Next stop – the hydrofarm," Clarke said. "Let's reassemble there and have Monty get to work." She paused to ask Monty how he was doing, and have Jackson take another look at his wound. When Monty confirmed that he felt well enough, Clarke continued, "While Monty's working his magic in the farm, I want Bellamy, Miller, and myself to do a sweep of the bunker. Now that we can see without the flashlights." She paused, "And Octavia, work closely with Monty since you'll be in charge of the hydrofarm when Monty's gone."

Jackson watched Monty and the others nod at Clarke's orders. He was not thrilled with what he'd seen when reexamining the wound a few minutes ago. He wondered how Monty would return to the Second Dawn bunker. There was no way he'd be able to get back there without assistance since he couldn't walk or drive. It was his right leg that was wounded. Besides, with that injury it would be just plain dangerous for him to set out alone.

Jackson took off his gloves and turned to look at his partner. Miller briefly met his eyes before looking down. There was a lot in that glance, Jackson deduced. Regret, sadness, maybe a hint of relief too. Jackson took a step closer to him, and Miller put his hand on Jackson's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. Then it was time for Miller to carry out his orders.

* * *

The day had been long and exhausting but productive. Clarke, Bellamy, and Miller's sweep confirmed what they all guessed: there was no one else down here and never had been. Whatever had happened to the group who had set out for this bunker 52 years ago, clearly they had never reached it. With the hydrofarm and the algae farm off to a decent start, the group realized they needed rest before undertaking anything else. They ate the last of the packed sandwiches and turned in for the night.

"I guess we can each have our own room!" Raven joked. She added, frowning, "Thank god I won't have to listen to all these couples having sex."

Indeed, this bunker was as large as the one they'd just left. It had multiple levels and hundreds of bedrooms. Clarke estimated that with enough supplies it could have housed 1,000 people. That fact was just another heartbreak the group would have to file away – 1,000 grounders could have survived Praimfaya here but hadn't been given the chance. Indra, Roan, and all their grounder friends and allies were gone, and once again it was just another loss in the rearview mirror.

Clarke and Bellamy settled into the room they claimed as their own. It contained bedframes for four bunk beds. They pushed two of them together to make a double bed and wearily unpacked the bedding supplies they had brought. Too tired to do much else, Clarke removed her boots and pants, and settled under the covers with Bellamy.

"This is good," Clarke murmured as she and Bellamy lay side by side on their backs. Her shoulders were bothering her from all the carrying she'd done today, so she didn't want to lie on her side. "Just having you to sleep next to." She thought of those who were now each trying to sleep inside an empty room. You got used to having a loved one next to you, and it just made the night feel better, easier.

"Same. I'm a lucky guy," Bellamy replied.

He was quiet after that. Clarke lay next to him and listened to his breathing. It was steady and comforting – and after a bit, it clearly indicated that Bellamy had fallen asleep. As Clarke lay there with the minutes eventually giving way to an hour, she was grateful for the fact that Bellamy, at least, was able to lose consciousness. It seemed like once again Clarke would be forced to experience what she'd experienced so many times since the day she'd been thrown into the sky box – feeling utterly exhausted but unable to sleep.

The day had gone as well as could be expected, she reminded herself, despite Monty's injury and Raven's ongoing challenges with her pain and her leg. Compared to most of her days on the ground, Clarke had to acknowledge that this had been one of the more successful ones. The bunker's engineering system was functioning thanks to Raven, and Monty was sure that the both farms would work too.

And yet. Clarke wouldn't see her mother again for four and a half years. She didn't like the idea of being separated from Monty and the rest of Skaikru either.

Something else. Something else continued to poke at her. Something else was keeping her from slumber.

_Bellamy_. Would Bellamy have to be the one to take Monty back to the Second Dawn bunker? The idea made her stomach turn.

Clarke mined through the facts inside her head. Monty couldn't walk or drive, but he had to go back; it was part of the deal with the Second Dawn. And besides that fact, Clarke knew he wanted to be back with his girlfriend and his best friend. Octavia didn't want to set foot anywhere near the Second Dawn bunker again, not to mention the fact that Bellamy would never allow it now that she finally seemed to be in a good place. Octavia wasn't one to complain or feel sorry for herself, but surely seeing evidence of the devastation that her beloved grounders had faced must have been heart-wrenching for her. There was no need to make her undergo it again during another trip. Raven would have no interest in returning to the Second Dawn bunker either, and besides that they needed her mechanical and engineering skills here to make sure all life-sustaining systems remained operational. Not to mention the fact that the Second Dawn men had been absolutely horrible to Raven, undercutting and downgrading her with every interaction. So neither Octavia nor Raven was a candidate to take Monty back.

And as for the other four members of their party, well, it was much safer to keep them all here now that the Second Dawn knew they were all "queers". There was always the risk that the Second Dawn could change their minds at any time and decide to toss them into those horrid prison cells for the rest of their lives. Going back to that bunker would be dangerous or even life-threatening for Miller, Jackson, Niylah, and Anne.

And as for Clarke herself? Couldn't she take Monty back? 'I could,' Clarke answered herself as the hours meandered by. 'They don't know that I'm what they call 'queer'. But I already said goodbye to my mom, and it would probably hurt to see her again for a few minutes and then say goodbye again. And my people are here and I'm their leader.'

Could Monty just stay here until he was able to walk or drive again? No, Clarke decided. From her own medical experience, she knew it would be at least three weeks and possibly much longer. The wound was a deep one. Monty would be eager to get back to Harper and Jasper, who would both be worried sick over him. The Second Dawn wouldn't know why it was taking Monty so long to return either. What if they took it as a sign that they'd reneged on their deal and decided to retaliate against Skaikru as a consequence? It wasn't out of the realm of possibility to think that Abby, as Clarke's mother, might suffer some of that retaliation. No, Monty needed to go back as soon as he was done setting up the farms.

At some point, Clarke felt a subtle shift inside the room. Bellamy turned over and the rhythm of his breathing was broken. She suspected that he was awake, and her suspicion was confirmed when he whispered, "Are you asleep?"

"No," she whispered back, though there was no reason to keep her voice down. It was a bit disquieting to realize that one could start to yell inside this bunker and there was no guarantee that **any** of its people would hear. Clarke made another mental note to ask Raven to start working on comms. No, she shook her head – no need to remind her; that was surely already on Raven's radar.

"Something bothering you?" Bellamy asked gently. "Or, you know, just the general horror of spending the day driving through a nuclear apocalypse?" he sighed.

They chuckled at his remark, and Clarke said, "I'm glad I can laugh about this with you."

"What else can we do? We knew it was coming but it was still…awful to look at." He paused. "And awful to get inside this bunker and realize that 1,000 grounders could've been saved."

"I had the same thought myself as soon as we opened the door," Clarke admitted. "We should have…" she let her voice trail off. There were so many "should haves", always so many, and it wouldn't do any good to rehash them now.

Bellamy was silent for a few moments. He turned to lie on his side, to face her. "I had another thought before I went to bed," he admitted. "Getting Monty back to the Second Dawn bunker."

"I know," Clarke said. "He can't drive and he can't walk without help. One of us has to take him back."

"Me. It has to be me."

Clarke was quiet, so Bellamy continued, "When I was doing my sweep, I ran through all the other possibilities. I'm pretty much the only one. Unless – well, unless you _wanted_ to see your mom again, but I'm thinking that another goodbye would just be more painful for you both." He added, "And we know that the elders don't listen to anything that women have to say, so I'd have better luck smoothing things over with them, if it comes to that."

"We must be psychically linked," Clarke said, shaking her head with a wry smile. Her head was stuffy and throbbing due to lack of sleep, but knowing that she and Bellamy were on the same page somehow wiped much of the pain away. "I've spent half the night thinking about this."

"And what do you think?" he asked.

"Pretty much came to the same conclusion as you. I mean, I could go along with you but it seems excessive and I feel like I'm needed more here."

"Right." Bellamy paused. "Look, the trip here was easy. Other than one bear trap. I'll watch where I'm stepping. But…it will be fine. Compared to Mount Weather…"

He let his voice trail off and Clarke shook her head. "I was thinking about that too," she admitted. She turned onto her side to face him, despite her sore shoulder. "I sent you into Mount Weather. It wasn't easy then, but now…now that we're together…"

"I know. We-"

"I love you, Bellamy."

Clarke wasn't sure why she'd chosen this time to say the words to him. They'd had a million other opportunities during the past weeks and months as she'd become more and more confident of her feelings. But somehow now had seemed like the right time. Perhaps, she mused silently, she'd let her heart make the decision instead of her head.

"I love you too, Clarke." He reached a hand to stroke the side of her face. "I'm so lucky to be here with you."

"We're both lucky," Clarke murmured. She reached her arms for him and relaxed into the embrace. This, she thought, was the best part. Just pulling his warm body against hers and feeling their love pulsing in the room. There was no need for sex – though they could have it if they wanted. There was no need for any more words – though if Clarke needed to talk or chatter or even just vent, she knew she could. There was just the pure elation of being able to fully be yourself with someone who accepted you the same way.

And now she had to say goodbye to him. True, it would only be for a few days. One day for Bellamy to get Monty to the Second Dawn bunker and one for him to return. Mount Weather popped into Clarke's head again. He'd gone in there alone after the plan with Lincoln had failed, he'd survived being hung upside down and pumped for blood, he'd succeeded in a seemingly-impossible mission. This one would be far, far easier.

* * *

Jackson examined Monty's wound again and then wearily retired to the room that he and Miller had selected. He was glad that Miller had done the work of setting up their room: pushing two beds together to make one, and making the bed. The bed which Miller himself was already laying in. Miller had thoughtfully left the overhead lights on for Jackson.

Like everyone else in Skaikru, neither Jackson nor Miller had much in the way of personal effects. But Jackson had one item that had made it down from the Ark with him and over to the Second Dawn bunker and now to this bunker: a necklace which had belonged to his beloved mother. Its beads were of a faded, blue glass and its clasp no longer held, but he still touched it occasionally. Miller had wanted to bring something with him that reminded him of his father, but the Sergeant hadn't had much by way of personal items either. After his dad had died, Nathan had gone through his backpack and found a card that he'd made for his dad as a child. The Sergeant had kept it all those years. Miller chose that as his item to bring to the new bunker.

Jackson looked and saw both items had been lovingly placed atop the side table next to their bed. Jackson unceremoniously removed his clothing, shut off the overhead lights, and got inside the bed next to his partner.

"How's Monty's injury?" Miller asked.

"It could've been a lot worse," Jackson replied, arranging the covers around himself. This bunker was cooler than the Second Dawn's. "It will heal if he stays off of it. But he won't be walking without assistance for a while."

Jackson then turned onto his side, his back to Miller. It was the position they usually slept in. Miller inched closer to him so they could spoon. He tentatively placed an arm around Jackson.

"I'm sorry."

Miller spoke the words against the back of Jackson's neck. The words came out straightforward but chagrined.

"**I'm **the one who should be sorry," Jackson said insistently. "I've been pressuring you to talk, and I think you've been trying to tell me that you're not ready to talk about it yet. I'm sorry for pushing you on it."

Miller was quiet for a bit. "I **have** been horrible since he died though. And that's not cool."

"I wouldn't say 'horrible'. Just normal." Jackson took a breath. "I told you, it's okay. We both need to give you time."

Miller grunted his assent. He added, "I'll try to be less grumpy in the meantime."

"You don't have to. I need to give you space to just feel what you're feeling."

Jackson relaxed against Miller. He meant what he'd said. He knew that Miller needed time, and he planned to be patient and to give it, and to stop insisting that Miller open up. Besides, _this _was what Jackson had craved back on the Ark after he and first boyfriend had broken up, and certainly every night since the Ark went down. Having a strong, loving man with his arms about him. A man who loved him and wanted to do better for him.

"I feel bad for being so grumpy with you," Miller continued. "And I should. But those Second Dawn idiots? They never made me feel bad for **loving** you. They can call it sick or against their religion all they want, but I never felt at all ashamed. I'm really proud that you chose me to be your man."

"I feel the same, Nate. I love you."

* * *

The next day was a flurry of activity, mostly for Monty. He set up both farms, and went over every aspect of them with Octavia and the others. Before leaving the Second Dawn bunker, he'd written up pages and pages of meticulous instructions. He went through them again with Octavia, Raven, and anyone else who would listen, adding just a few notes here and there.

Jackson, Niylah, and Anne set up med bay. When the members of the group weren't helping Monty walk or stand, they tended to just walk around their new home, marveling at its size. Raven created a schedule to train everyone else in the field of engineering, promising "I'm gonna make each one of you my apprentice."

Anne had cooked dinner for everyone, beans and rice flavored with a tiny sprinkle of dried garlic. The nine people sat together at one table inside the vast mess hall as they ate.

"Might be bland but it still beats the nutrition cubes we ate on the Ark," Raven said.

"And some of the crap we ate on the ground," Miller added, placing his spoon down. "Bellamy, remember the time we hunted and ate that animal? Still don't know what it was called. But it had the worst meat ever."

Bellamy shook his head. "That stringy, dry crap that we could barely get down. I would've traded it all for two months of nothing but nutrition cubes." He then scratched at the rash that was still bothering him, despite the disproving look from Clarke. She'd been reminding him not to scratch.

"Yeah, and after we'd spent all damn day hunting that beast!" Miller said with a guffaw, though he and Bellamy both looked a bit pleased at the memory of their successful – if unappetizing - hunt.

"So I'm thinking," Monty began, glancing down at his bowl and then back up again, "that we leave at first light tomorrow. If that's okay with everyone." He didn't need to state the obvious. Even a few days away from Harper was hurting him far worse than the effects of the bear trap.

Clarke looked at Octavia. Clarke herself had sat in on almost every session with Monty today but the farms would be Octavia's responsibility. (And Clarke had taken a brief nap as well – several days with little sleep had finally caught up with her).

"I'm ready," Octavia said firmly.

"You wrote a damn book, Monty," Raven said, smiling and shaking her head. "I think you answered every possible question in there." She added, "And once we get comms up in both bunkers, then we can radio you with any questions."

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a look and nodded. They didn't want to bid farewell to Monty but they also didn't want to jeopardize the safety of their remaining Skaikru members, or keep him apart from Harper any longer than need be. The two of them could easily put themselves in Monty and Harper's shoes, empathizing with how agonizing the separation must be.

"That works for me," Bellamy said. "We'll be much more careful where we step this time."

"Too soon, Bellamy," Monty said, smiling and shaking his head. "Too soon."

* * *

When Clarke had left the Second Dawn bunker, she and her mother had bid farewell in private. And she and Bellamy would keep their goodbye in private as well. They made love that night for as long as they could. At times it was slow and sorrowful, at other times passionate and almost frenetic. Bellamy was determined to touch, kiss, and lick almost every inch of Clarke's body, trying to savor and remember her.

While Clarke was bathing, Bellamy located the piece of chalk he'd packed. Paper and writing implements took up valuable space inside their backpacks but they'd found room for them. Bellamy used the chalk to write a message to Clarke on the wall of their room, behind their side table. He left the side table just slightly askew so it wouldn't catch Clarke's attention right away but there was, he figured, a good chance she'd notice it during one of the days he was away and read it then.

As he was getting dressed, she entered their room and rummaged around her backpack. "Here," she said, handing him a piece of paper. "I drew this yesterday when Monty was going over something for the hundredth time. Just a drawing for you to give to my mom."

Bellamy took it with a nod. He swallowed. This moment would be hard, he knew.

"It's just two days," Clarke said. But she wasn't smiling, and Bellamy saw her eyes looking as agonized as he felt.

"Two days," he repeated. "We've both gone on missions that were way, way more dangerous."

"Right. This is nothing. No Azgeda. No Mountain Men. No AI zombies trying to recruit you." It looked like Clarke was trying to get the words out with a laugh, but she couldn't muster one – and neither could he.

Despite his words, Bellamy still felt agony at the impending separation and he knew she did too. He looked into her beautiful eyes and saw a hint of wetness. His heart ached and he pulled her into a hug.

"I love you so much, Clarke," he said, his voice like a ripped bandage. He touched his hand to the back of her neck, just loving the feel of her wavy hair against his fingers. Loving the warmth of her body and wondering how he would manage even two days without it.

"I love you too," she said, squeezing him tightly.

As Bellamy continued to embrace her, he was torn between not wanting the moment to end but knowing it was already a bit later in the day than Monty had wanted to depart. Holding Clarke, he suspected that she felt the same way.

"Why does it feel," Clarke said softly, "that in a world where we've had to make hard decisions and do hard things that this is one of the hardest?"

"It is," he responded. "It truly is."

There was a soft knock at their door. "Hey brother," Octavia began from the other side. "Monty's too nice to tell you that it's past first light now. But we don't want you guys driving at night so – time to go!"

"Copy that!" he called out. Bellamy looked at Clarke one more time. Her face, her eyes, the loving way she gazed at him. He didn't want to leave. But it was time. They stepped together, their kiss long and lingering. His eyes closed, his lips locked with Clarke's, Bellamy couldn't decide if the moment was painful or exquisite.

Then it was time for him to grab his pack and go. He and Octavia – and the others - had already said goodbye in private, earlier. Brother and sister walked down the corridor in silence towards the exit.

As Bellamy hoisted Monty out of the bunker, the two men began their trek back towards the rovers. The wind was stronger today and louder, with a disturbing wail. Bellamy turned his head to look back one last time. Polis's tower continued to loom above the bunker's entrance. It still looked as if nothing more than a tap might send the tower tumbling down. He shook his head. Maybe it was just a trick of the eyes.

* * *

The trip back to the Second Dawn bunker was blessedly uneventful other than the howling, relentless wind. When they reached the bunker, Bellamy and Monty banged on the door as Monty had been instructed to. For a few minutes they stood there as nothing happened, but finally the door was opened and they stepped inside, making sure to secure the door behind them. Harper, Jasper, and three elders greeted the duo. Monty hugged his girlfriend and his best friend warmly, both of whom were dismayed at seeing his injury.

Bellamy reached to shake Monty's hand, to bid him and his other two friends farewell. But one of the elders said, "Don't be in such a rush, Bellamy. Why don't you come in, get out of that hazmat suit, have some dinner and something to drink? You can stay the night here if you want. Your room is still yours."

Bellamy and Monty had discussed this during their trip. Perhaps because Bellamy had seen the disgusting prison cell where the Second Dawn had held Miller, he just didn't want to spend any more time inside their bunker than necessary. The bunker felt ominous and even alien to him – a fact which Monty said he understood. But standing inside the bunker now, Bellamy knew he was utterly exhausted, and the prospect of spending the night inside the rover, trying to sleep while wearing a hazmat suit and breathing its stale air was painful. He hadn't slept well the past few nights, and he'd need to be awake and alert in order to make the trek – alone - back to Clarke. Bone-tired now, he wasn't sure he could do it. Bellamy was also hungry and thirsty. The notion of having one last "real" meal – as opposed to the container of cold beans he'd brought with him – was enticing. And although it seemed unlikely that anyone or anything had survived Praimfaya, if they had then Bellamy would be safer spending the night inside the Second Dawn bunker instead of the rover. Additionally, he had Clarke's note for Abby, and he really wanted to give it to her in person. There was also that rash he'd had since taking the anti-radiation drugs. They had nothing at the other bunker to treat it, but likely Abby could treat it here. It had been relentless with its itchiness and pain during the entire trip.

So he nodded, taking the elder up on his offer. It would turn out to be one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made in his entire life.

* * *

"We're keeping you here, Bellamy Blake."

It had taken Bellamy a while to fall asleep inside his old room in the Second Dawn bunker, the absence of Clarke gnawing at him. But once he'd lost consciousness, he slept the sleep of the dead. Unbeknownst to him, he'd slept a full ten hours without pause. Whoever had been on laundry duty since Bellamy and the others had departed had not yet changed the sheets inside his room, so they pleasantly carried Clarke's scent on them which helped keep Bellamy content and asleep for so long.

So it took him a while to register that John and Andrew Cadogan, father and son, were now standing inside his room. Andrew held a gun though he wasn't pointing it at Bellamy. John held a nightstick.

Bellamy bolted upwards, blinking and trying to make sense of the words that John Cadogan had just uttered.

"What? Why? And where's Kane?" Bellamy managed.

John answered the second of the three questions. "We changed our minds," he said simply. "Letting you all go was a mistake. As no doubt you Skaikru people guessed, we need to expand our gene pool. Since the moment your group walked out the door, we've been having regrets. So we're sorry Bellamy, but we're not letting you leave here."

"Yeah, well you're gonna have to **make** me stay!" Bellamy exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "And what about our binding contract?"

"We can make you do what we need you to do. And we're going to just need to put some aspects of the contract aside," John replied casually but firmly. His nightstick was at the ready, and his son clutched his firearm. "Your rover has been dissembled. And – with the help of your Jaha - our engineers have figured out all of Monty's tricks, so he won't be able to pull a stunt like he did last time. They learned what he did and how to stop it." John paused and added, "I guess we're not so stupid after all."

"I never said you were stupid," Bellamy said, seething and trying desperately to get his brain in gear. Where was Kane? Did he know about this? And was Jaha really helping the Second Dawn? Well, Bellamy wouldn't put that passed the former chancellor. He then paused and let his anger get the best of him, "Well, maybe I did."

The younger Cadogan shook his head. "Such disrespect. Skaikru is going to learn manners and behave the way we want you to, and _dress _the way we want you too, even if we have to throw half of Skaikru into those prison cells. The cells we never should have let your queers out of in the first place."

The elder Cadogan added with a smile, "And that we could easily put you in if you prove to be uncooperative." He paused. "I know you wanted to get back to your girlfriend and your sister, but that's no longer an option. You will stay here and marry one of our young women. For now, we're going to leave you locked in your room until we're sure you've calmed down. Just be glad we're not locking you in one of our prison cells."

With that, both Cadogans left the room before Bellamy could charge at them. It wouldn't have mattered if he had. Three more armed Second Dawn men were standing outside ready to defend their leaders.

Bellamy sat back down on his bed stunned, wishing more than anything that this whole thing was just a nightmare.

The hours slowly meandered by from there, leaving Bellamy alone with his fear, sadness, and anger. But also with his resolve. He would find a way back to Clarke and Octavia. Sooner or later they would realize that he was taking too long to return, and they along with Raven would come up with a plan. And sooner or later, Bellamy would be allowed to talk to Kane to find out what had happened here and how to change it. He just had to muster every ounce of patience he could to make it through the interminable hours inside this room.

**THE END**

_But you know I won't leave it like that! The sequel is already outlined out, so if you want more, make some noise, let me know._

_I want to thank my beta testers. They did a phenomenal job of nudging me to make the story better while offering praise when it was deserved. Thank you!_

_Thank you also to everyone who left a review. They really help motivate me._

_I love to talk about The 100, Bellarke, Mackson, and all the background ships in this fic too, so contact me anytime. My Tumblr is JemLeoFan_


	13. The sequel

The sequel has been posted! Please check out "The Thirteenth Level" to continue reading the saga.


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